


Bait and Switch

by sgamadison



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Bodyswap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-22
Updated: 2010-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgamadison/pseuds/sgamadison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Rodney learn the hard way what it means to 'walk a mile' in each other's shoes...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bait and Switch

**Summary:** John and Rodney learn the hard way what it means to 'walk a mile' in each other's shoes...

 

**Categories:** [Slash Pairings](browse.php?type=categories&id=3) &gt; [McKay/Sheppard](browse.php?type=categories&id=11)

**Characters:** [Elizabeth Weir](browse.php?type=characters&charid=5), [John Sheppard](browse.php?type=characters&charid=7), [Other](browse.php?type=characters&charid=10), [Rodney McKay](browse.php?type=characters&charid=12), [Ronon Dex](browse.php?type=characters&charid=13), [Teyla Emmagan](browse.php?type=characters&charid=17)

**Genres:** [First Time](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=10), [Friendship](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=11), [Humour](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=12), [PWP - Plot, What Plot?](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=14)

**Warnings:** [Adult themes](browse.php?type=class&type_id=2&classid=23)

**Chapters:** 1 [[Table of Contents](viewstory.php?sid=12269&index=1)]

**Series:** None

 

 

Word count: 21732; Completed: Yes

 

Updated: 30 Aug 2007; Published: 30 Aug 2007  
[[Report This](contact.php?action=report&url=viewstory.php?chapid=12881)]

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

>   
> "What just happened?" Colonel Sheppard's voice went up several octaves as he continued to speak, staggering backwards from the Ancient artifact, hands beginning to cartwheel wildly. "Did what I just _think_ happened, happen? Augh! _Tell_ me this isn't happening!" He shoved his hands out in front of him and flipped them back and forth as he stared at them blankly, before looking up to shoot daggers at Rodney McKay. "This is all _your_ fault!" He yelled, pointing an accusing finger at the bewildered looking scientist.
> 
>  
> 
> Teyla turned a questioning and very concerned gaze towards Dr. McKay, who merely said, "Uh-oh." He looked unexpectedly meek for Dr. McKay, and somewhat guilty as well.
> 
>  
> 
> "This isn't happening! This is absolutely impossible!" The Colonel seemed to think that by sheer volume, he could stop whatever it was that he thought should not be happening from happening just now.
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> Rodney's blue eyes narrowed suddenly and Teyla felt a weird little frisson of what the people of Earth called 'deja-vu' as she watched his mouth quirk to one side and heard him drawl, "Fine. Since you declared it to be an impossibility, then there's obviously no problem here."
> 
>  
> 
> "_You_ got us into this mess—_you_ get us out, Colonel Sticky Fingers," The Colonel glared at Rodney as he spoke those words, confirming what Teyla had already begun to suspect was true. He punctuated his angry words by pushing up into Rodney's space and pointing at his head. "Because those brains? _Mine_. And I want them back."
> 
>  
> 
> Teyla began mentally rehearsing what she would say to Elizabeth _this_ time. The Seeker clapped his hands where he stood beside her, ceremonial robes fluttering with the movement. "A Transference! We haven't had a Transference in centuries. My, this _is_ a good omen."
> 
>  
> 
> Teyla caught Ronon's eye and he began to laugh.
> 
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> "You are absolutely no help whatsoever," she said darkly, but then she had to bite her lip to keep from smiling herself.
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
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> 
> It would seem, after all this time in the Pegasus galaxy, one would start to have a foreboding about these things. Or then again, given the fantastical nature of the predicaments they routinely found themselves in, maybe not. Seriously, how could one get up in the morning and say to themselves, "I have a bad feeling about this mission...like I might not come home in the body I started out in when we left the Gateroom..." Even putting it into thoughts like that, made it sound utterly ludicrous. _And yet, there you are_...
> 
>  
> 
> Still, he might have known. It should have been patently obvious when McKay was late to the Gateroom that morning, looking as thought he'd spent a hard night out on the town. Seeing as that was extremely unlikely, and not wanting to even think about what that might entail, John mentally amended the assessment to 'looking as though he'd been up all night preparing for the final presentation of his thesis'. Or maybe all of them at the same time. At any rate, he had made the almost mandatory comment of "Glad you could join us, Rodney," only to be murdered by the full intensity of the McKay 'bite me' glare.
> 
>  
> 
> "As undoubtedly vital as my presence is to this little mission you have planned for us today, there is just not enough of me to go around at times. You might just have to take a number and get in line with everyone else." Rodney hefted his pack over one shoulder as he spoke.
> 
>  
> 
> There were so many ways he could have responded to that statement, but whatever this thing was between him and Rodney, it wouldn't let him simply acknowledge that Rodney was right and that it must be hard to be in demand so much of the time. "Ooh," he made the words overly sympathetic, "tough day at the laptop?"
> 
>  
> 
> The snide little comment opened the floodgates of Rodney's ire and not even entering the event horizon slowed him down. "I'll have you know, Colonel, that even on a good day, I have more to do and oversee than can conceivably be completed in the course of twenty-four hours. On a bad day, I have to put out all the fires as well."
> 
>  
> 
> "We're all on call here twenty-four/seven, Rodney," Sheppard retorted after exiting the event horizon and making a brief, practiced sweep of the area for hazards and threats before continuing to harangue McKay.
> 
>  
> 
> "Yes, yes, but while you are responsible for defending the city, which, on any given day is a job filled with hours of boredom and moments of sheer terror, I am actually responsible for _running_ the city. And crises of water reclamation, air purification, power distribution, or heaven forbid, the science department's duty roster, while not usually life-threatening, tend to take place on a more daily basis then the city under siege." They managed to all move out under that long-winded reply; Teyla attempting once to intervene, to change the subject to something more pertinent like perhaps the mission at hand, but then subsiding as Rodney continued to speak at length about the demands on his time and intellect. John saw her roll her eyes at Ronon and heard Ronon's soft snort in reply. Rodney appeared oblivious. He shot down any attempt on John's part to refute the claim that Rodney's job was more arduous than anyone else's in the expedition.
> 
>  
> 
> The argument continued in some form or another as they made their way to the village, met with the elders of the Kiraba, and politely viewed the local produce and goods. It persisted even when they took samples of the local ore that the metallurgy department was hoping would be able to augment the somewhat time-dependent supplies the Daedalus could bring on a given run. It ran through the light lunch of fruit, cheese and fresh-baked bread offered by the Kirabans and paused only when a person designated for some unknown reason as 'the Seeker' appeared in full ceremonial dress and asked them shyly to accompany him to the temple to present gifts to honor their new working relationship.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney had ceased his end of the argument at that point, but only because he was busy scanning the ore and making hopeful noises over its properties as they walked down a well-worn dirt road to the temple; huge trees forming a canopy overhead. Unfortunately, the Seeker had been paying attention to Rodney's rant and was more than willing to feed his outrageous ego by asking him questions about his work and his importance to the expedition. John had felt compelled to cut Rodney off then, earning him a look from Rodney that could blister paint. It was not until Teyla had successfully distracted the Seeker with some questions about the ceremony they were to perform and the exact duties of a 'Seeker' that John managed to snag Rodney by the arm and growl sotto voiced, "Way to go McKay, nothing like pointing out to the nice people what a valuable hostage you would make."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney shook off his grip, but turned even paler than usual and gulped, remaining uncharacteristically silent for the rest of the walk. John was starting to feel just the slightest bit guilty about coming down so hard on him when to his relief, Rodney found his voice.
> 
>  
> 
> Of course, it took Ancient technology to do it.
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh ho," Rodney chortled suddenly, tapping the surface of the scanner as they approached the temple. "I'm getting some new readings here, a faint energy signature..." He began to move the scanner slowly in a circle, like a hound attempting to pick up a scent. "Here we go..." he focused on what appeared to be a primitive stone carving depicting a being with two faces. He stood in front of the idol as it sat in its niche on the wall outside the temple, studying the scanner without moving.
> 
>  
> 
> "Whatcha got there, Rodney?" John moved in behind him, eyeing the scanner over his shoulder. There was a long pause in which the only sound came from the faint drone of insects from the surrounding fields. "Rodney?" He moved so that he was in Rodney's line of sight, but still Rodney appeared deaf and blind to his presence. He watched for a moment, fascinated by Rodney's concentration, trying hard not to focus on his mouth as Rodney fingered his lower lip. "Hey look, it's a ZPM."
> 
>  
> 
> He nearly burst out laughing at the way Rodney's head snapped up. "What? Where?" Rodney's eyes narrowed dangerously when he realized he'd been had. "Very funny Colonel. See if you laugh the next time I shout, 'hey look, it's a zat!'"
> 
>  
> 
> "Ooh, now you're just being cruel."
> 
>  
> 
> "What's a 'zat'?" Ronon asked.
> 
>  
> 
> "That's right, Rodney. You go ahead and explain to Ronon what zats are and just how we happened to get sent to the Pegasus galaxy without any."
> 
>  
> 
> "Can we possibly stay on topic here?" Rodney snapped. "As I was about to say, before I was so rudely interrupted, the energy trace seems to have emanated from this idol here, only now it is no longer putting out any energy."
> 
>  
> 
> "You could try rubbing its belly."
> 
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> 
> Rodney speared him with an 'are you a complete moron?' look.
> 
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> 
> John shrugged. "Maybe it's like Buddha. You rub its belly for luck. Or to get it to reveal its secrets. Or grant you three wishes..."
> 
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> "Remind me again exactly why you're in charge of these missions?" Rodney was reaching out for the idol with one hand even as he spoke, one eye on the scanner as he did so.
> 
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> 
> Oooh, that one stung just a little. John was about to say something suitably sharp in return when Rodney lost his grip on the idol and it began to tip forward. Rodney began to fumble for it one handed, not able to grab it securely without dropping the scanner. The Seeker gasped loudly behind them and John reached out to catch the stone image before it toppled off the shelf. The instant his hand connected with the idol, he felt a warm, tingling sensation run up his arm and into his body. Like an electric current, the sensation seemed to weld his hand to the rough stone surface and he was unable to let go. He locked eyes with Rodney, open-mouthed in dismay as his own hand twitched on the idol's surface as well. There was a blinding flash and when his vision began to clear, he found himself looking _at_ himself, whose mouth dropped open in shock, looking back at him.
> 
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> 
> He had just enough time to think, '_oh this can't be good_' before Rodney started his tirade.
> 
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> 
> ***
> 
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> 
> The Seeker frowned at them, looking perplexed at their lack of enthusiasm over this offering of the gods. The Colonel had managed to calm Rodney down to the point that they could ask questions, but Rodney still looked lethally enraged, his color high and the Colonel's hazel eyes crackling with anger in his face. It was odd seeing the 'Colonel' standing with that hunched over, defensive posture that Rodney did when he was upset. Teyla's eye flicked over to 'Rodney'. The Colonel was listening to the Seeker with a grim expression, brow furrowed over blue eyes. Teyla didn't like the way his hand was resting on Rodney's sidearm.
> 
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> 
> "No, no," the Seeker was saying. "This is a _great_ honor. We have not had a Transference in centuries."
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> "You said that before," Rodney snapped, somehow managing to bite off the Colonel's normal drawl.
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> "Consider us honored," Rodney's voice came out in the slower, more measured pace of the Colonel's habitual way of speaking. "Now how do we reverse it?"
> 
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> "Oh you can't reverse it!" The Seeker was shocked. "No, you were switched for a reason, a greater purpose...you must go back to your village and each assume the role of the other's lives. Only then can you truly understand your brother." He beamed at the group as he spoke and Teyla feared for his life at that moment.
> 
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> "If you," Rodney ground out, "tell me I have to 'walk a mile' in Sheppard's shoes, I _will_ hurt you."
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> The Seeker looked confused. The Colonel sighed. "It's an expression. To walk a mile in someone's shoes means to really understand what it's like to be them."
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> "Exactly!" The Seeker was delighted. "To walk a mile...what an excellent way of describing it. Yes, so that's what you must do. Return home, tell no one of the Transference and live according to the other's life. Once you have walked...sufficient miles...the Transference will reverse itself naturally."
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> Both Sheppard and Rodney looked patently relieved. Then the Colonel frowned. "Wait a minute—tell no one? Trade lives? Seeker, with all due respect, there's no way we can do that."
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> Teyla intervened. "Seeker," she said gently, "these men have very specialized training and very different roles back at the village where we live. It would be dangerous for them to return home and try to assume each other's lives. It would be like a scribe changing places with a fisherman." Teyla looked at the faces glaring at her and struggled with another analogy. "Like a stone mason switching places with a healer."
> 
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> "Like switching Pinky and the Brain," Ronon rumbled. Teyla turned to look at him and he seemed inordinately pleased with his contribution. He raised a '_what_?' eye brow at her.
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> "Well, we all know who _Pinky_ would be in this scenario," Rodney narrowed the Colonel's eyes to glare at Sheppard.
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> "Hey!" The Colonel sounded indignant.
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> "Well, if the straightjacket fits, Colonel," Rodney said nastily. Teyla seriously wanted to smack everyone in the room.
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> The Seeker looked worried. "I do not know how not being able to switch lives completely will affect the outcome of the Transference. There have been reports of an inability to return to the original state due to an unwillingness on the part of one party to truly understand and appreciate the other."
> 
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> "Why is everyone looking at _me_?" Rodney growled.
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> ***
> 
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> "So that's the whole story." The man who looked like Rodney McKay but who in reality was her military commander stood in her office with the rest of his team gathered around. There was a long silence when he finished speaking and she realized belatedly that everyone was waiting for her reaction. Logically, there was no way the story she had just heard could possibly be true. But she was faced with the evidence before her own eyes...
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> Teyla, lithe, intelligent, and athletic stood with that odd dancer's grace before her. Odd, because Elizabeth knew without having actually seen proof of the fact that Teyla's grace stemmed from years of martial arts training and not from anything so frivolous as dance. Her expression was worried and her glance kept flicking back and forth between Rodney and John.
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> Ronon leaned against one wall, quietly amused in a way that she had not seen before since his arrival in Atlantis. Well, she supposed the former Runner had not had much to make him laugh over the last seven years. Part of her was concerned about John's ability to command such a forceful personality, if he could find his team leader's current predicament funny. Was there a lack of respect there? Even as she acknowledged the thought, her mind whispered to her that it _was_ funny, especially of all the people in the expedition to have something like this happen to; it _would_ have to be John and Rodney. For a brief instant, she wondered how hard it would be to get in contact with now retired General Hammond, and ask him exactly how he managed to handle all the scrapes that his then Colonel and Geek managed to get into during his tenure as head of the SGC.
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> She mentally shook her head. 'Rodney' was watching her, blue eyes coolly amused at her discomfiture, as though he knew what she was thinking. He was sitting with one hip on the edge of her desk, patiently waiting for her response. 'John' on the other hand, was practically on the verge of self-combustion, hazel eyes sharp with fury, expression not boding well for the next hapless person who happened to speak to him. He had his arms folded tightly across his chest and Elizabeth found herself wondering if perhaps, for the time being, they should ask Rodney to relinquish John's weapon.
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> She sighed. She was definitely going to have to put in a special request on the next outgoing requisition order for the Daedalus. On days like this, a nice cup of tea was simply inadequate. Vodka on the other hand...
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> "Sooo," she began slowly. "What exactly does this mean?"
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> "It means that the Scarecrow finally gets a brain," Rodney sniped.
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> "You know you could probably get a heart on Ebay, cheap, right?" John's response was effortless, volley received and returned without missing a beat.
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> "Gentlemen," Elizabeth said severely. "Focus. Any theories on how to reverse the situation? And what does Carson have to say?"
> 
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> "Carson, _after_ he finished laughing himself silly," Rodney's face darkened as he spoke and Elizabeth found herself thinking it a good thing that John had never had any issues with blood pressure before this incident, "stated that our physical bodies are in a normal state of health, but that our EEG patterns confirm the change in personalities. As if we didn't know _that_ already. I have not yet analyzed the data collected at the site. The power readings went off the scale when the Colonel touched the idol." He shot a murderous glare over at 'Rodney', who chose that moment to inspect his fingernails.
> 
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> "The Seeker assured us that after a period of exploration and appreciation for the other person's journey, the Transference will reverse itself naturally. The Kiraba consider this a great honor." Teyla sounded calm as always, but still looked worried. Elizabeth couldn't say as she blamed her. Why did everything always happen to this team?
> 
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> "At least, he _thinks_ it will..." John added the qualifier and then quirked an eyebrow in her direction. Elizabeth frowned. How could John find this funny when this affected his whole life so personally? She realized with sudden insight that it was the situation John found amusing, regardless of who it directly concerned. He wouldn't let it affect his job regardless.
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> Elizabeth sighed again. "Very well. I'll notify the appropriate department heads. Keep me posted everyone."
> 
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> Ronon rolled himself off the wall and left the room first, as though waiting to be released from the principal's office, Elizabeth thought. Teyla gave the two men a look that was both concerned and encouraging before exiting as well. Rodney huffed and stomped out behind her, leaving John to flash Elizabeth a rueful smile as he unobtrusively hurried to catch up with Rodney. She watched from her window as he said something that made Rodney stop and turn abruptly, every line in 'his' body rigid with anger.
> 
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> They stood facing each other for a moment, as John spoke to Rodney again, suddenly holding out his hand. Rodney stood as though stunned; whatever John had said to him, it was not expected. Slowly, he lifted a hand to the collar of his black t-shirt, and then he fished out the chain around his neck, pulling the dog tags up and over his head to hand them to John. John accepted them without looking at them, sliding them over his head with the ease of long practice and then dropping the chain inside Rodney's blue science shirt. He said something else to Rodney that might have been a 'thanks' before turning and moving off in the opposite direction. Elizabeth watched as Rodney stood, transfixed by his passage.
> 
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> _Oh dear_. She recognized that look of miserable longing and somehow knew that it had nothing to do with the body swap. She was startled to see that expression on Rodney's face, still more so to see it on _John's_ features. She wondered if John had any idea...
> 
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> ***
> 
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> 
> He at least had the sense not to go running with Ronon. He'd begged off when Ronon showed up at his usual time the next day, saying that he really didn't think Carson would appreciate John putting Rodney's body into cardiac arrest during a morning run and besides, Rodney would never let him hear the end of it. Ronon had sulked a little, suggested John was being a weenie and babying Rodney's body too much and then grinned suddenly. "I know. I'll get _Rodney_ to run with me."
> 
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> "Hah. Good luck on that one," had been John's response.
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> He did go running alone, giving himself a 15 minute warm-up at a brisk walk before dropping into a light jog. It took him a while to find a rhythm, to get used to how Rodney's body moved. Rodney probably had 30 pounds on him to start, and had a different center of balance. He was surprisingly agile though, and not nearly as unfit as his complaints made him out to be. Still, John was acutely aware that geek fit was a far, far cry from military fit and not for the first time, John worried what it would be like to live out the rest of his life in Rodney's body. Rodney seemed to have a general collection of minor aches and pains and John _really_ did not think his right knee should make that popping sound when he moved. Thank god there was nothing wrong with his eyesight. He found the Ancient tech somewhat less responsive and missed the almost subliminal contact he felt that he had with the city. It occurred to him that he had better spend some time in one of the jumpers, making sure that there were no significant changes in response time. For the first time he could really understand where Rodney's jealousy over his ATA gene came from. Not that he'd ever wanted the position, but he'd gotten used to being the fair-haired child of the city.
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> John fell into his running mode, but was not able get into his usual head zone. His mind kept racing around ahead of him, focusing one moment on how the work-out was becoming increasingly harder and ohmygod, had only been ten minutes? There was no way he was going to have time to complete his usual circuit at this pace. Then it jumped next to his meeting with Elizabeth later this morning and the stack of paperwork on his desk and what was going to happen if they were still switched when the Daedalus returned from Earth; he did not want to see the look on Caldwell's face when they tried to explain _this_ one...he finally staggered to a stop, panting hard, sweat darkening the collar of Rodney's sweatshirt. It took him longer than normal to cool down and when he looked at Rodney's watch on Rodney's wrist, he said aloud to the empty corridor, "Oh shit, I'm going to be late!"
> 
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> ***
> 
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> Rodney took a seat across the table from Ronon and began to tuck into his breakfast. Ronon looked up with a smirk.
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> "Is that what you're having for breakfast?"
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> Rodney glanced up briefly at Ronon's face before dropping his eyes to Ronon's plate and then comparing the mountain of food stacked there to what he had on his own plate in front of him. He sighed. "You know, I had this idea that I would take advantage of the Colonel's freakish metabolism and eat myself silly during this time of body swapping, but the sad truth is either I find that I am not all that hungry or things that I thought would be fantastic just don't taste right. Too sweet." He poked in a desultory way at the eggs on his plate.
> 
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> 
> Ronon snorted. "He doesn't have a freakish metabolism, McKay. He eats when he's hungry and doesn't when he's not. He works out. End of story." Ronon shoveled a fistful of hash browns onto his fork and lifted it to his mouth. After he swallowed, he waved the empty fork in Rodney's direction. "Wouldn't hurt you to work out yourself. You should come running with me. See what it's like to be fit for a change." He took a large gulping swallow of milk. Rodney wasn't about to point out to him that milk was a drink for children.
> 
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> A part of Rodney resented the idea that Sheppard might actually have to work to stay in shape, that he had trained and conditioned for his current job much the way Rodney had by putting in his time towards getting his degrees. It didn't fit in somehow with his belief that some things just came easier to the Colonel. "Huh," he grunted, using his toast to push some scrambled egg onto his fork. "If he's so fit, why is it that you and Teyla kick his ass on such a regular basis?"
> 
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> Ronon actually laid down his silverware and looked at him. The action was so unprecedented that Rodney halted in the act of lifting his own fork to his mouth to stare at Ronon. "McKay." Ronon's voice was somehow both pitying and irritated. "What have I been doing for the last seven years?"
> 
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> Rodney carefully laid down his fork. "Um, serving as the Wraith's own personal fox in a game of Kill the Runner?"
> 
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> Ronon blinked, and then gave a feral smile like the namesake creature Rodney had just called him. "That's one way of putting it. A game for them. Not for me. A game that never stops, that runs...how do you guys put it? 'Twenty-four/seven?'" Ronon shrugged, toying with the fork. "A game where no one says, 'hey, better luck next time'. A game where the only time I caught a break was when the _Wraith_ decided to call it quits for the day." His tone deepened into bitterness at the mention of the Wraith. "If you weren't born and raised here," the waving fork seemed to indicated the Pegasus galaxy, "then you have no idea what it's like to live like that—not even your military. You guys always think that somewhere there's a safe place to lie down at the end of the day. Sheppard's good, but if I weren't better than good, I'd be dead."
> 
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> It was a long speech for Ronon. Rodney felt appallingly humble. He hated feeling that way, so he grumbled instead. "I still say this body is wasted on Sheppard."
> 
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> Ronon grinned and began eating again. "How so?"
> 
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> 
> "The man exudes sex appeal without trying. If he actually _tried_...my god, it would be like focusing laser beams at a victim. Here. Watch this." Rodney scanned the room before selecting a likely target. "See that blonde over there? The one with the short hair, sitting by herself, reading a report? Okay, notice I don't actually have to do anything, other than look at her..."
> 
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> Rodney turned the full force of what he liked to think of as the Sheppard Sexual Targeting Array on the unsuspecting woman seated at a table across the room from them. He slouched in his chair, one elbow resting on its back as he concentrated on the young woman. Within moments, she glanced up. He smiled, allowing it to form lazily, and watched with satisfaction as she simpered and dropped her gaze back to her reports again with a smile.
> 
>  
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> "That doesn't prove anything." Ronon was amused.
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh no?" Rodney challenged. "I can do that with anyone in the room. I can get any woman to look up at me without saying a word, and if I just snapped my fingers..." he did so and then drummed out a rapid tattoo on the table top. "I've been thinking...there are some special requisitions I've been meaning to put in front of Elizabeth. _Now_ would be a good time..."
> 
>  
> 
> "You're full of it, McKay." Ronon was grinning openly now.
> 
>  
> 
> "Victim number two..." Rodney said by way of response. "Long haired brunette, whatshername, over there, talking to Radek." Ronon turned his head slightly for a better view, but in no time was treated to the sight of the brunette looking up, blushing and then tucking a lock of hair behind one ear before returning her attention to Radek again. "Oooh, hair touch," Rodney crowed, "I get extra points for that one!"
> 
>  
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> "Don't be a jerk, McKay." Ronon was still amused.
> 
>  
> 
> "Fine. _You_ choose one." Rodney waved expansively towards the room. He smirked when he saw Ronon's eyes narrow at the challenge. Poor Ronon, that competitive streak just never let him down, did it? _Sooo_ predictable...
> 
>  
> 
> Ronon scanned the room briefly before choosing. "Redhead." He was succinct. "In the corner. Talking with the marines."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney acknowledged that the fact she was talking to a group of people would make it harder for the SSTA to lock on target, but if Ronon was counting on her mousy appearance to confer immunity, he was sadly mistaken in only the way that someone inherently good looking themselves could be. In Rodney's experience the mousy ones were desperately eager. A part of him felt a small twinge of guilt as he leveled his sultry gaze at the small group. It really was sort of cruel when you thought about it.
> 
>  
> 
> After a moment, the redhead looked up with a small frown and then dismissively looked away. To Rodney's embarrassment, the young marine standing next to her also looked up, a slow, shy smile stealing across his features, lighting up his expression. Rodney caught himself smiling in return until he realized what he was doing, then flushed, scowled and turned away, making eye contact with Ronon, whose face was brimming with laughter.
> 
>  
> 
> "I think you need a little more practice with your aim," Ronon smirked.
> 
>  
> 
> "Whatever. The point is, I'm right. Natural good looks. Inherent sexuality. Not even gender specific. And he wastes it on alien priestesses and space bimbos." Rodney went back to eating his breakfast, even less appealing now that it was cold.
> 
>  
> 
> "Uh-huh." Ronon sounded slightly distracted. "And you think sex is about how you look? That it's not more about attitude?"
> 
>  
> 
> "Spoken like someone who's never had any trouble getting any," Rodney groused.
> 
>  
> 
> "McKay." Rodney looked up. Ronon was grinning like a loon and he tipped his head over towards the far entrance. Rodney glanced in that direction to see 'himself' leaning against the wall as 'he' spoke to Katie Brown, arms folded, hips canted out to one side and crossed at the ankle to support him in his lean. Lazy half-smile looking crooked but oh-so-seductive on Rodney's features. As he watched, Sheppard straightened and gave the botanist a nod before moving off in the general direction of the food line. She turned her head to watch his passage, her eye appraisingly leveled at his ass.
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh that is just so wrong," Rodney said under his voice. He was going to have to say something to the Colonel about that too. He looked up at the sound of Ronon pushing back his chair. He picked up his empty tray and grinned down at Rodney.
> 
>  
> 
> "Come running with me tomorrow. Do you some good." He moved off without waiting for an answer.
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
>  
> 
> By mid-morning, John was fed up and ready to let everyone around him know it. It felt like he had gone from one long, useless, waste-of-time meeting to another, first with Elizabeth, then with Lorne, then the requisitions officer and then with various military and science personnel all with idiotic problems needing basic solutions. That the solutions were all patently obvious was infuriating; he couldn't see why it was necessary for him to point out what was right there in front of everyone. And even when he was discussing routine business, he could barely contain the _itch_ of frustration over how slow everyone seemed to be on the uptake today.
> 
>  
> 
> Elizabeth eventually called him out on it. "John, don't you think you were a little rude?" She nodded at the staff sergeant who was leaving her office with slightly slumped shoulders, looking dejected.
> 
>  
> 
> "I don't know how that man ever made it to sergeant!" John groused. "Oh don't look at me like that. We need people out here in the Pegasus galaxy who can think for themselves and not someone who's going to come running to me every time they need their noses wiped. What?" He trailed off, mid-rant as Elizabeth appeared to be biting her lip trying not to say something.
> 
>  
> 
> "_Flowers for Algernon_," she said finally, eyes bright.
> 
>  
> 
> "Huh?" He scowled at her a second, and then he got it. Oh. Right. It took a second longer for the other shoe to drop. Holy crap. Rodney must feel like this all the time. He wondered what it was like to live feeling as though you were surrounded by co-workers with the average intelligence of a laboratory rat. He was going to ignore the fact that the story ended badly for all concerned.
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
>  
> 
> Elizabeth watched as 'Rodney' left her office and she had to smile at the straightforward movement, the unobtrusive scan of surroundings as he went. Rodney's uncontrolled but purposeful movements had always suggested to Elizabeth the single-minded focus of a bloodhound on a trail, whereas John reminded her much more of a cheetah surveying the veldt for prey. It was odd to see them like this and she could only imagine what it was like for the two of them. She certainly hoped that Carson had convinced them to speak with Dr. Heightmeyer. She had a passing moment of sympathy for Kate. Nothing in her background could have possibly prepared her for the oddities that she had been forced to deal with in Atlantis on a regular basis.
> 
>  
> 
> Elizabeth paused casually beside Chuck's station as she entered the Gateroom. "So Chuck," she said quietly, "how are the pools running?"
> 
>  
> 
> "Excuse me, Dr. Weir?" Chuck looked flustered and Elizabeth smothered a grin.
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh please, Chuck." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him. "I know very well that you're keeping the books. I want in. What are my options?"
> 
>  
> 
> Chuck coughed slightly. "Well, ma'am. You could always bet on whether or not Dr. McKay will arrive at a solution..."
> 
>  
> 
> Elizabeth made a face. "That might be hard to prove—especially if the situation is self-limiting."
> 
>  
> 
> "Yes, well," Chuck appeared to be relaxing a little. "There's a pool running as to whether or not Dr. McKay will accidentally shoot someone, though statistically speaking, the Colonel would be far more likely in this scenario...or there's the one as to whether or not the Colonel will end up punching someone. That has proven to be a popular one. Or there's my personal favorite: guess the percentage of the expedition that does not think there is anything that unusual about the situation in the first place."
> 
>  
> 
> Elizabeth burst out laughing. "Oh dear, I think I'm going to have to go sit down now."
> 
>  
> 
> Chuck was grinning like a fiend. "Just let me know whenever you are ready to place a bet, Dr. Weir..."
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
>  
> 
> It never even occurred to Rodney to signal before entering his quarters because, _hello, his quarters_ and because, well, if he had really thought about it, he would have expected Sheppard to be off doing colonel-like things somewhere. So he was really startled when he came barreling into his room, mentally listing the items he needed to collect to take back to the lab and was faced with the sight of 'himself ' sitting at the foot of the bed.
> 
>  
> 
> That was just never going to stop being weird.
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh, hey," he began, somewhat embarrassed, though not entirely certain why, "I was just coming to pick up..." He trailed off as Sheppard squinted up at him, turning his head carefully as though it were a motion sensitive ordinance that might go off any second. Oh shit. He recognized the sick, 'just shoot me' expression even though he had not actually ever seen it on himself before.
> 
>  
> 
> "Headache?" He was sympathetic. Hell, he knew exactly how Sheppard felt right now.
> 
>  
> 
> "Maybe," Sheppard conceded. "A bit of one."
> 
>  
> 
> For some reason this totally pissed Rodney off. "Of all the stupid, imbecilic, dumb-ass, stubborn, pointless..." He ran out of adjectives. "Oh for crying out loud! This is important Colonel, tell me the truth, none of your ill-conceived notions about keeping a stiff upper lip and taking one for the Gipper, or whatever moronic football analogy you can think of. Your answers will determine what happens next. When was the last time you ate?"
> 
>  
> 
> Sheppard was still squinting, or maybe it was grimacing now. "I dunno—breakfast?" He sounded like it really was an effort to recall the information.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney glanced at the watch on his wrist, momentarily distracted by the wrist-that-was-not-his and then frowned. "That was like, seven hours ago! What did you eat?"
> 
>  
> 
> Sheppard gave him a long, blank stare and Rodney almost had to ask again before he answered, "I had some toast. And a piece of bacon."
> 
>  
> 
> "And?" Rodney's tone was impatient. Was he going to have to pull every single detail out of the Colonel, one word at a time?
> 
>  
> 
> "And what?"
> 
>  
> 
> "What else did you have for breakfast?" Rodney breathed hard through his nose, trying to refrain from yelling.
> 
>  
> 
> "That was it." Sheppard looked up at Rodney and then hastily added, "I was in a hurry. I was late for a meeting with Elizabeth."
> 
>  
> 
> "You were late. Ohmygod, someone alert the media."
> 
>  
> 
> "I had trouble sleeping. Your body was like, I dunno, wired for sound. Every time I dropped off to sleep, I would sit bolt upright, sure I had forgotten to do something. I ended up just falling asleep at dawn. You drink way too much coffee, you know that, right?"
> 
>  
> 
> "How much coffee have _you_ had today?"
> 
>  
> 
> Sheppard dropped his head down to support it with one hand, elbow braced across the other arm, fingers massaging his forehead. "I had a cup during the meeting."
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh for..." Rodney swore under his breath and stalked over to the bureau, opening the top drawer and taking out an unmarked bottle. He shook a couple of tablets out into his hand and then went into the bathroom for a glass of water. Returning to the main area, he handed both water and tablets to Sheppard. "Take these. You are seriously down on your food and caffeine quotient for the day and you're damn lucky that's all it is and you have not yet precipitated a migraine with your stupid stoicism. This is my body we're talking about here, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't abuse it too much."
> 
>  
> 
> Sheppard lifted his head and eyed the medication without taking it. "If this is just a headache, I would hate to see what one of your migraines is like. What's that? I need to stay sharp here."
> 
>  
> 
> "Tylenol with codeine. OTC in Canada, I might add." He waggled the glass and pills.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney watched in fascination as Sheppard drew his lips into a thin line and shook his head. So this was what he looked like when he turned mulish...and yet at the same time, he could see the mark of Sheppard's personality overlying his own features staring back at him.
> 
>  
> 
> "No." Sheppard might have been a prisoner under interrogation, refusing to cooperate.
> 
>  
> 
> "Colonel, I know my body. Take these, lie down now, let me get you some food and some sort of caffeinated beverage and you will be functional again in a few hours. Refuse, and you could be looking at a migraine, along with several days of non-functionality while you recover from the anti-migraine medication. Trust me on this one. I've been dealing with this for years, and I know what my limitations are. Do you think I just piss and moan about my needs because I'm enamored with the sound of my own voice?" Rodney paused, took in the expression on Sheppard's face that said '_well_...' and huffed in indignation. "You _do_, don't you? Well, I like that! How do you think it makes me feel, to always be considered the weak link, physically I mean, on the team?"
> 
>  
> 
> Sheppard sighed, a small resigned sound and Rodney recognized that it was much different than the big gusty noise he would have made in a similar situation, complete with dramatic lift and fall of shoulders as well. Sheppard held a hand out for the pills and started to dry swallow them.
> 
>  
> 
> "No, no, no!" Rodney shoved the water glass at him, slopping some over the edge. "You will never do that! Did you know the number one cause of esophageal strictures in people comes from dry swallowing ibuprofen? You will drink this entire eight ounce glass of water now!"
> 
>  
> 
> "Not ibuprofen," he pointed out, indicating the Tylenol. Rodney's own features not withstanding, the look the John gave him was pure Sheppard. There was a mix of exasperation coupled with amusement and something that looked just briefly like affection, before Sheppard took the proffered water and began obediently chugging it down. Damn. Rodney had no idea his face was that expressive. No wonder everyone said he was such a bad liar.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney took the empty glass and set it on the counter behind him. He dropped to the floor and began untying the shoelaces on Sheppard's (well, _his_ really) trainers.
> 
>  
> 
> "Rodney." Sheppard's voice was calm but tinged with wariness. "What are you doing?"
> 
>  
> 
> "I'm taking off your shoes so you can lie down while I go to the mess and get you some food." Rodney got the first shoe undone and slipped it off over John's heel. He sat unresisting as Rodney worked on the other shoe and he sounded somewhat defeated when he spoke again.
> 
>  
> 
> "I tried that. I can't find any position that's comfortable. Your neck is killing me. You know, right, that it doesn't turn all the way to the left? And your back? Totally fucked up."
> 
>  
> 
> "Gee, Geraldo, thanks for the news flash. Now tell me something I don't know. Sitting for hours on end hunched over a keyboard would mess up anyone's back and neck. And yesterday, I spent four hours upside down under a console, trying to use a wrench in a space too tight for its use and cursing the Ancients for not making things more accessible for repairs. That bolt had been in place for at least 10,000 years and it was _not_ coming off. Look, it's not usually this bad, but I've been putting in some extra-long days lately." Rodney sighed, pulled off the other shoe and pushed himself up off the floor, momentarily resenting the ease with which Sheppard's borrowed body allowed him to do that. He went back to the bureau and came back with two different tablets.
> 
>  
> 
> "What's that now?" Sheppard complained. "Does Carson know you have all this shit squirreled away in here?"
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney rolled his eyes. "Like you don't have your own personalized first aid kit hidden in your quarters. Seriously, I bet you could do field surgery with some of the stuff in that kit. These are muscle relaxers. I don't have to take them often, just when the neck seizes up like that."
> 
>  
> 
> "I'm not taking any more shit." This time the expression was not just mulish; it brooked no argument.
> 
>  
> 
> "Fine," Rodney snapped, pocketing the medication. "Get up. You're taking a shower. 20 minutes. Hot water on the back of your neck, as hot as you can stand it. Move it, soldier."
> 
>  
> 
> "Hey," Sheppard protested as Rodney grabbed him by the arm and hoisted him to his feet. A part of him secretly got a kick out of how easy that was, until his mind kicked in and gave him a mental thump for admiring Sheppard's physical prowess again.
> 
>  
> 
> "No buts," Rodney propelled him toward the bathroom. "I'll start the coffee."
> 
>  
> 
> It was a measure of how bad Sheppard felt that he did not question Rodney's statement, but merely raised an eyebrow. Rodney almost burst out laughing—it just did _not_ have the same affect. Sheppard seemed to know what he was thinking, because he gave a crooked little smirk before his features melted into misery again. He shuffled into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney wasted no time, pulling out the coffeemaker from its hidden location in the cabinets and then quickly pulling off a wall panel nearby. Within minutes, he had cables from within the wall plugged into an interface device and the return from the device attached with alligator clips to the internal workings of the coffeemaker. While the coffee perked through the filter, he rummaged around in the same cabinet, feeling the underside of the shelving until he located his prize. Peeling off the duct tape, he pulled out a small bag of dark chocolate. There was a brief moment when he was able to watch what he was doing with 'Sheppard's eyes' and realize that it was not the actions of a normal person to hide chocolate in his own quarters like it was a valuable gemstone, but then he defied anyone who had lived through the deprivations of the first year on Atlantis not to be a little possessive about their favorite luxuries...the thought made his eyes narrow as he contemplated what John might possibly have hidden.
> 
>  
> 
> By the time Sheppard came out of the bathroom, Rodney had a steaming cup of coffee ready, with several pieces of dark chocolate stirred in until they had melted. It smelled mouthwateringly delicious, but Rodney was oddly uninterested in having a cup himself. He heard the door to the bathroom whoosh open and turned with the cup in hand, to be startled by the sight of 'himself' entering the main room, clad only in a towel.
> 
>  
> 
> Sheppard was massaging the back of his neck with one hand as he came over and sat down heavily on the foot of the bed once more, closing his eyes as he did so. "Hmmn, that's better," he sighed. "Though now we know where all the hot water in the city is going..." His nose twitched slightly and Rodney watched, fascinated, as Sheppard first became aware of the scent of coffee in the air.
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh. Say, is that? Did you..." His eyes popped open and began to scan the room, lighting on the makeshift power source for the coffeemaker before completing the circuit to the cup in Rodney's hands. "Rodney, you crack me up, you really do." He gave a wide smile. "Would any of that be for me?"
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney looked down at the cup he was stupidly holding in his hands, his own personal cup that read "Speak slowly, for I am not fluent in idiot." He handed the mug over to John wordlessly.
> 
>  
> 
> He took the offered cup gratefully, inhaling the aroma like a junkie before taking an appreciative sip. "Oh god," he moaned, "this is fantastic. What did you do to this? No, never mind, don't tell me." He took a finger and circled the rim of the mug, wiping up a smear of chocolate. He placed the finger in his mouth, sucking on it with a smile, making sure he got every last remnant of chocolate. "Oh god," he sighed. "Nirvana. How can this possibly taste so good? " He sat with his eyes closed again, cradling the cup and sipping it carefully.
> 
>  
> 
> And just like that, Rodney felt himself starting to get hard. A part of him could get past the fact that the sight of himself apparently becoming semi-orgasmic over chocolate and coffee should not be a turn-on for him. He realized that it was the sight of John sucking on his (_Rodney's_) fingers in that oh-so-sexy way that was doing it for him. And a part of him could even wonder if that sight was also doing it for John's body as well.
> 
>  
> 
> "I'm not seeing Katie Brown anymore," he blurted out suddenly. He had the odd experience of seeing his own features look up at him with a perplexed expression.
> 
>  
> 
> "You're not?" There went the eyebrow thing again. The '_why not_?' was implied.
> 
>  
> 
> "No, and we never, ah, well, you know..." Rodney trailed off as a hand spun in circles helplessly.
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh." Rodney thought Sheppard looked just a bit disappointed and he had no idea how to interpret that piece of information.
> 
>  
> 
> "I'm not seeing anyone right now, so don't get any bright ideas," he snapped, feeling suddenly defensive about his lack of a social life. Sheppard looked up at him and Rodney noted the tell-tale flush that started from the neck up. _Huh. Interesting_. "Um, are you by any chance seeing someone...I mean, anyone in particular that is?"
> 
>  
> 
> "What's that supposed to mean?" Oooh, Rodney had no idea that he could ever look that murderous. He would have to remember that expression; it might come in handy some day.
> 
>  
> 
> "Nothing, nothing, I just meant, you know, seeing someone regularly. As in, more than once, you know, as in..."
> 
>  
> 
> "I know what 'regularly' means, Rodney," Sheppard growled and then winced again. "And for your information, I'm not. Seeing someone regularly or otherwise. Not that it's really any of your business, you know. And it's not like the fact that we've switched places is a big secret or anything."
> 
>  
> 
> "Who knows how long we'll be stuck like this?" Rodney did not intend for it to sound desperate, but it apparently did. Sheppard returned his look with an appalled expression of his own.
> 
>  
> 
> "You'll find a way out of this, Rodney, you always do." Rodney wasn't sure how Sheppard managed to sound so confident when he was patently aware that the Colonel really didn't feel that way—Rodney's own features were just too expressive to hide Sheppard's dismay. It made him wonder if all the other times Sheppard had expressed confidence in his ability to solve the problem, he had been bluffing too. He just did not want to think about that right now. At the moment, all he could think about was getting out of the room before he embarrassed himself in front of Sheppard.
> 
>  
> 
> "Right. Okay. Well, finish that coffee up. I have a few power bars in here somewhere, you should eat one. And get some rest. The headache should get better in a few hours. Ah...let me know if it doesn't. I've got to go. I'm needed in the labs. Yes. Right. Labs." He turned abruptly and disconnected the power source to the coffeemaker and then sidled towards the door. "See you later."
> 
>  
> 
> John sat on the bed, a small Sheppardy frown furrowing his brow as Rodney hastily made his exit.
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
>  
> 
> He had been avoiding the whole idea of showering. Shaving was bad enough. Not only did it take longer (Rodney was certainly glad it was not his razor he was having to abuse at the moment) but staring at Sheppard's reflection while he shaved was just unnerving. If he put it off much longer, though, someone was bound to notice and that would have the awkward effect of calling attention to his problem. This was just stupid. They were both adults here. Hell, he had ordered Sheppard to shower yesterday, and he had done so without hesitation. So what was the big deal?
> 
>  
> 
> _The big deal is that you will enjoy it too much_. Rodney slammed the thought aside and stomped over to the dresser, pulling out clean clothes to take with him into the bathroom. Resolutely, he laid the neat stack of clothing on the edge of the countertop by the sink, unlaced his boots and toed them off before stripping off John's BDU's without looking in the mirror. When he had removed all but the boxers, he adjusted the water in the shower to come on full blast, steam beginning to form almost immediately. Wouldn't hurt to fog over that damned mirror. He'd just nip in and out, two minutes tops and then he could be back down in the labs again.
> 
>  
> 
> He focused intently on removing Sheppard's watch from his wrist, trying to ignore the play of muscle as he rotated his forearm to access the clasp. He fumbled with it a brief moment and then felt ridiculously satisfied when he got it successfully off. He would just lay it down on the counter here...his eye caught his reflection in the mirror that was just beginning to mist over.
> 
>  
> 
> Wow. That was just...wow. He straightened, half turned and looked in the mirror again, over one shoulder. He allowed his eye to follow the line of Sheppard's back from shoulder to waistline where the edge of the boxers was just visible in the mirror. He swallowed hard and then watched as Sheppard's Adam's apple bobbed in his reflection. He turned to face the mirror fully again, tracing with his eyes the contours of Sheppard's chest and abdomen, heart suddenly pounding. He reached up with one hand to touch the scar on the right side of Sheppard's neck, watching with fascination his hand move in the mirror. He looked down at the skin on the inside of the right forearm at the scar left by Ellia's bite. He touched the ugly raised line of flesh with the other hand, reflecting on how both times, they had nearly lost John. He knew the stories behind these scars, but there were others, older, some just a ghosting of a white line against tanned skin, scars that had stories that only John knew.
> 
>  
> 
> He glanced back into the mirror. Unable to resist, he flexed a bicep and then grinned at his idiocy. He took a step back from the mirror and craned his head around to look behind him, pulling the fabric of the boxers taut against John's skin. _Hah. My ass is better_.
> 
>  
> 
> Feeling relieved, sure that he could get through this just fine now, he turned away from the mirror towards the shower, peeling off John's boxers as he went and testing the temperature of the water before he entered the stall. Steam billowed out as he opened the glass door and he had to adjust the temp downwards slightly before getting in. Ducking his head to avoid the spray, he turned his back to the nozzle and blissfully shut his eyes to the pounding warmth, backing up into it. He opened his eyes to reach for the soap and glanced down as he did so.
> 
>  
> 
> _Oh my_. Okay. John had a really nice dick. Not too big. Not too small. Long and lean, sort of like him. Aerodynamic. The thought made Rodney slightly hysterical. Okaaaay, then. Back to showering.
> 
>  
> 
> Studiously he applied himself to the two minute shower goal, attacking his hair with the shampoo. He was momentarily distracted by the unexpected silky softness of John's hair and found himself comparing it to the coarseness of his chest hair and then he was trembling, suddenly overwhelmed by the heat, the tingling spray of water and the scent of John's soap and the smell of his skin and the brush of soap-slicked fingers over a nipple. The droplets of water beading up on John's shoulder made him want to turn his head into it and lick it off. _This is ridiculous. It's just a stupid crush. Well, okay, more like a fantasy come true_...
> 
>  
> 
> Stepping out of the spray, he began to lather up, hands moving slowly and languorously as he closed his eyes and gave into the sensation of what he was feeling. He could appreciate the aesthetic perfection of the musculature beneath his hands while at the same time the animal sensuality of being touched as well. It was mind-blowing and in self-defense, he began to catalog the sensations idly, as though he were no more than an impartial observer, noting where John was sensitive, where his hot spots were located. A long swipe across John's abdomen with a soapy hand resulted in a tightening of muscle, an intake of air and a slight arching back. Rodney watched in guilty pleasure as John's cock began to fill and jut out proudly from the dark thatch of hair.
> 
>  
> 
> His hand hovered in the general vicinity of John's cock, moving only with the force of his increased respiration. The only sound was that of the running water. _You shouldn't be doing this_. No sooner than he completed the thought then it occurred to him that in all likelihood John would be more understanding of _this_ than if Rodney had succumbed to the temptation of going through John's 'stuff'. And his mind flashed to what could have possibly gone through John's mind as he showered in Rodney's body yesterday and Rodney suddenly pictured the way John had looked when he sucked the chocolate off his fingers and he was lost.
> 
>  
> 
> Bracing his forehead along his left arm on the wall, he leaned into its support, taking a light hold of John's cock and shuddering as the sensation coursed throughout his entire body. _Damn_. He palmed the shaft, running his fingers out to the tip, smoothing his thumb over the head and opening his mouth to sigh into the wall at the touch. He noted the different placement of calluses on John's fingers, from holding a joystick, from handling a weapon, not those of pens or styluses. John's cock swelled in his hand, becoming so hard it was almost painful and Rodney began to palm it in earnest, forming a tight ring with his hand in which to thrust, hips rolling forward even as he groaned and picked up the pace of his stroking. With a wordless pant that increased in pitch as he got closer, Rodney came, semen spurting over his hand and against the wall and washing away as fast as he came.
> 
>  
> 
> If he believed in hell, he was _so_ going to burn in it.
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney was back in his own quarters, throwing stuff in a duffle bag, when John returned there from dinner. He looked disconcerted to see John and seemed to have difficulty meeting his eye.
> 
>  
> 
> "I forgot a few things from yesterday," he said gruffly, continuing to move about the room, checking out various items and either discarding them or stowing them in the bag.
> 
>  
> 
> "We missed you at dinner." John frowned at him. What the heck was his problem?
> 
>  
> 
> "I was busy." John could have predicted _that_ answer. Rodney looked up at him sharply all of the sudden. "Did you eat?"
> 
>  
> 
> "Yes, mother." John grinned back at him.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney developed two bright bands of color across his cheekbones and mumbled, "Good," as he went back to packing.
> 
>  
> 
> John watched him silently for a moment. "You know, Rodney, though it seemed like a good idea to simply switch rooms at the time, if you need to get to your stuff, I can just pack a bag of your clothing and take it back to my quarters. There's no need for you to shift all your things."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney stopped packing, but just stood, looking down at the bag. Finally he sighed and said, "It's not a big deal, I can come by here as easily as not. Besides, if you had trouble sleeping on _my_ mattress..." He looked up then, expression rueful. "How's the headache?"
> 
>  
> 
> John made a face. "Better. Still have a pain in the neck though."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney made the '_ha-ha, funny_' face which looked totally ludicrous on his own features and John began to laugh. Rodney flashed him a sharp-eyed look but then smiled as well. He set the bag down on the nearby table and began opening drawers in the bureau, pushing the contents aside looking for some item in particular. He made a small noise of satisfaction when he found what he was looking for and pulled out a long rectangular shaped pad. He fussed around with a power unit on the side and then said, "Still has a charge. Here."
> 
>  
> 
> He motioned for John to sit on the end of the bed. Placing one knee on the bed behind him for support, Rodney leaned in and arranged the soft pad around his neck. John could feel the slow seeping of warmth coming off the bag as it started to heat up. He sighed, surprised that such a simple thing could feel so good. Rodney got up, went over to the nightstand and rummaged around in that drawer until he came up with a small bottle of lotion. He came back over to the bed again and put one knee on it again, before suddenly hesitating.
> 
>  
> 
> "May I?" He asked, his voice quiet.
> 
>  
> 
> "Hey, it's your neck." Though he did not understand how his words could have had that effect, he felt the sudden tension between himself and Rodney. It lingered as he heard Rodney pop the cap on the bottle of lotion and then he felt Rodney shift the hot pack to one side as he began working his fingers into the muscles of John's neck and he forgot all about categorizing the weirdness between them.
> 
>  
> 
> At first, the pressure of Rodney's fingers against the taut muscle was almost painful, but in a good way. John hissed at the contact and then took a deep breath, relaxing as much as he could into to the movement, allowing Rodney's body to give and take with the flexion of the fingers. The lotion helped Rodney's touch glide along the planes of his neck and just when the touch was bearable; Rodney shifted the hot pack to the other side. The left side of Rodney's neck was much worse, and John could not help a whimper as Rodney methodically worked on it.
> 
>  
> 
> "Aren't you going to ask me if it's too much?" John grunted, neck involuntarily seizing up as Rodney dug his fingers into a trigger point and held them there.
> 
>  
> 
> "I know you can take it." Rodney's voice sounded smug. He shifted around behind John some more, now kneeling with both knees on the bed and sitting on his heels. When John started to relax again, Rodney's fingers moved once more. It was exquisite torture and it shouldn't have felt so good. Rodney adjusted the pack so it covered both sides of John's neck again and John felt unreasonably disappointed that the neck rub was stopping here. To his intense satisfaction, he felt Rodney brace his fingertips against the base of his neck and work his thumbs up and down the spine just between the shoulders. Rodney's fingers slipped on the fabric of John's shirt and he made a noise of frustration.
> 
>  
> 
> Removing the pack, John leaned forward and peeled the science blue shirt over his head, catching the dog tags with one hand and removing them as well. He pushed himself back into Rodney's hands and draping the hot pack over his neck again.
> 
>  
> 
> "I'm sorry," Rodney said dryly, "is there something I can help you with?"
> 
>  
> 
> John turned slightly so as to avoid cranking his neck around. "You started this," he grinned. "Unless you want to just walk away and leave your poor body suffering..."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney's expression was guarded. It was really weird seeing his own features up close like this and wondering what the heck was going on in Rodney's mind. Normally everything was so clearly visible on Rodney's face. Rodney simply pushed his shoulder back around so he was facing the front again, and began working on the muscles of his upper back, adding more lotion to his hands as he did so.
> 
>  
> 
> John smiled at the thought of a quieter Rodney. He began to wonder how much of a person's personality was grounded in genetics and biochemistry and whether his own biochemistry was having a dampening effect on Rodney's normally transparent emotions. He wondered too if Rodney's biochemistry made him irritable and his genius made him impatient. His body began to sway under the ministrations of Rodney's hands (his own hands, when you really thought about it, and wasn't _that_ weird?) and it shouldn't have felt so good but it did. John found himself craving more contact and suddenly, awfully, he got a mental image of Rodney as a young Oliver Twist, with a head of tousled curls, saying 'Please, may I have some more?' only instead of food he was begging for someone to touch him, someone to fill a need that had been denied for far too long his entire life. In his mind's eye he could see Rodney in college, impossibly young, all sharp angles and long nose, kissing a serious-looking young woman. The scene shifted, and John saw Rodney in a passionate clutch with a blonde man, his high cheekbones betraying his Slavic background, their mouths frantically seeking one another as they braced against a cold, gray wall. And then it was Rodney sitting naked in front of him as he wrapped his arms around Rodney's chest, pulling him into John's lap as he bit down on the juncture of muscle between neck and shoulder...
> 
>  
> 
> John's eyes popped open and he became aware that he had dozed off. Okay. _That_ was different. Rodney's hands drifted away, like a pianist's withdrawing from the keyboard after the final note has been played. He realized that he had subconsciously noted, acknowledged and accepted a long time ago that Rodney's sexuality was somewhat flexible. He wondered why it had been easier to cut Rodney some slack than it had been to do the same for himself. He thought he'd shut all those doors years ago, and he had never looked back.
> 
>  
> 
> "Sorry. That's all I can do. If it's bothering you this much tomorrow, maybe you should see Carson." Rodney edged off the bed to stand near the foot.
> 
>  
> 
> John picked up the blue uniform top and threaded it over his head and arms without looking up. "No, that was great. Thanks, Rodney. It should help."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney made a noise of disbelief and John risked a glance up at him. There was a heat and hunger about his expression and for an instant, John thought he was looking into a mirror and the sensation startled him.
> 
>  
> 
> "What?" Rodney was frowning.
> 
>  
> 
> "Nothing." John felt a slow flush start on Rodney's features and cursed that his face was so open.
> 
>  
> 
> The expression on the face staring back at him got small and tight and he recognized that Rodney was hiding something. Before he could dig further along those lines, Rodney simply shrugged and said, "Right then. I'm off. Try to get some sleep."
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
>  
> 
> "Just what the hell is going on here?" Rodney stormed into the infirmary, marching up to where Carson was bandaging Sheppard's hand as he sat on the edge of one of the hospital beds. Injury to the hand aside, Sheppard looked remarkably disheveled, Rodney's short brown hair dark with sweat and sticking up in odd places, a long scrape, since scabbed over, on his forehead. The blue uniform shirt that John was wearing was snagged in places, dirty and had bits of plant material sticking to it. Damn it, did his nipples always show through his clothing like that or was it just John's influence on his body?
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh hey, Rodney." Sheppard was looking inordinately pleased. "Say, you're going to get a kick out of this—it's a really good story."
> 
>  
> 
> Carson snorted and continued to wrap the hand. Ronon loomed in the background, looking damned amused again.
> 
>  
> 
> "Really? A good story? _Well_ then, it's absolutely worth it. I mean, what's having functional hands to do really important, delicate, _scientific_ work compared to getting a really good story out of it?" Rodney could feel the steam rolling out of his quirky little John Sheppard ears.
> 
>  
> 
> Not surprisingly, Sheppard continued to be unfazed. "Oh c'mon, Rodney. Wait 'til you hear what happened before you blow a gasket. The hand's not that bad, right doc?" He grinned up at Carson.
> 
>  
> 
> Carson gave him a mock-dirty look, as though he resented being pulled into the center of this, but then relented and smiled back. It would seem no one could resist the Sheppard smile; no matter whose face he was wearing at the time. "A mild rope burn. Should heal just fine."
> 
>  
> 
> "So what happened?" Rodney crossed his arms over his chest and began tapping a foot. Around him, people seemed to be having difficulty containing their amusement.
> 
>  
> 
> "Sooo," Sheppard drawled, "one of Jinto's friends..."
> 
>  
> 
> "Tran," Ronon supplied.
> 
>  
> 
> "Yes, right. Tran. Well anyway, Tran fell down a crevasse over on the mainland and Ronon and I were lowering Teyla down via a rope to rescue him when suddenly Teyla lost her footing and slipped quite a few feet. The rope ran through my hands and pulled me forward over the lip of the crevasse..." There was no reason for Sheppard to continue to grin in that goofy way at this point and Rodney felt obliged to point this out.
> 
>  
> 
> "Almost pulled you over? And this is the funny part of the really good story, right? Because I am missing out on the part where you explain why is it that you were even involved in this rescue operation to begin with!"
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh that," Sheppard was dismissive. "Well, we were on hand, I knew how to belay the ropes and besides, you have pretty good upper body strength."
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh." Rodney was properly silenced. The casual praise of some trait of his that was physical as opposed to mental left him shyly pleased inside. After a beat, he said, "Go on."
> 
>  
> 
> Sheppard gave a slow, sly grin. "Soooo, anyway...I got planted face first in the dirt and had my arms pulled forward over my head and down over the edge of the cliff face..."
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh, so it's a _cliff_ now..."
> 
>  
> 
> Simultaneously, all three men said "Rodney..."
> 
>  
> 
> "So, like he said," Ronon picked up the thread of John's story, "he gets pulled forward and I hear this loud _crack_!"
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney could feel the blood leaving his face. "Ohmygod."
> 
>  
> 
> "Yeah." Sheppard was grinning openly now. "I look back and Ronon is like, 'hey, are you okay?'"
> 
>  
> 
> "It was a very loud crack." Ronon smirked knowingly at McKay.
> 
>  
> 
> "Only _now_ I felt like I had the strength of ten McKays, plus two." Sheppard was beaming.
> 
>  
> 
> "Yeah," Ronon added. "He was grinning, and kept saying, 'I feel _great_' and then he started hauling Teyla and Tran back up again."
> 
>  
> 
> Carson just shook his head. "I canna advocate it, but it would appear that you got a much needed chiropractic adjustment, Rodney." He finished wrapping the hand and handed Sheppard some medicated ointment and more bandaging material.
> 
>  
> 
> Sheppard turned back to Rodney. "Cool, huh?" His grin was maniacal and infectious.
> 
>  
> 
> "Cool," Rodney said with a sigh. Four years of regular adjustments without success prior to coming to the Pegasus galaxy and Sheppard fixes his back in one afternoon by playing the _hero_.
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
>  
> 
> "Colonel." The lieutenant's voice contained a smirk but a not very nice one, John decided. "Care to join us for a little work-out?" He stood to one side of the gym in a little cluster of marines, looking remarkably like a group of schoolyard bullies.
> 
>  
> 
> John turned an assessing eye on the young man, all at once missing Ford with a sharpness that made his loss seem like only yesterday. The sandy-haired officer hailing him now seemed to know what his response would be. John decided not to disappoint Lt. Walsh. No point in punishing Rodney's body in a foolish attempt to wipe the smile off Walsh's face.
> 
>  
> 
> "No thanks, Lieutenant." John let his eye coolly rest on his junior officer and noted that the lieutenant did not seem impressed. "I'm going to try something new today."
> 
>  
> 
> He had given up running in exchange for swimming these last few mornings, having discovered that it really seemed to help to stretch out the muscles in Rodney's neck and back. He found too that the water seemed to effectively drown out the internal noise he carried with him at all times now, and he was able to get into the zone in a way he couldn't while running any more. He'd begged off training with Teyla for the moment, substituting weight lifting for those sessions, promising himself at her look of quiet understanding and disappointment that it would only be temporary. Today, coolly ignoring the muffled laughter behind him, he picked up a pair of boxing gloves.
> 
>  
> 
> Teyla was there beside him in an instant; he hadn't even seen her come in. He allowed her to lace up the gloves and distract him from any audience by asking him questions about boxing as both a discipline and a sport. He really didn't know all that much about the subject, but he was grateful for the questions just the same. When he stepped up to the punching bag, Teyla settled herself against one of the wall supports to watch. It took him five or six tentative strikes at the bag to get a feel for the rhythm, but then he fell into it as easily as though he were running, as though he had been doing it all his life. He grinned mentally; somehow he just knew that Rodney was built for this. He pummeled the bag in front of him with a rolling ease, tuning out the rest of the room, the thoughts in his mind. Nothing existed except the leather and the sweat, the swing of the bag and the satisfying contact of his gloved hands against it.
> 
>  
> 
> When he finally stopped, Rodney's short brown hair was plastered with sweat to his head, and his t-shirt was damp as well, but he felt really good. Teyla stepped forward to unlace his gloves without waiting for him to ask. He noted that the marine contingent from before had split up to work on hand to hand skills; Walsh watched him silently for a moment before looking away. Teyla pulled the gloves off over his hands. He accepted the towel that she held out and after rubbing his face and neck, he slung it over his shoulders and took the offered water bottle as well.
> 
>  
> 
> "Watching my six for me, Teyla?" He knew that she was waiting for Cadman's 'Self-Defense for Geeks' class to start; she had been helping with that since its inception. A few scientific types were starting to drift into the room and begin their warm-up. Still it was fun to tease her.
> 
>  
> 
> "Of course, John." Teyla was meticulous about calling him by his given name when they were off the clock, ever since that whole turning-into-a-bug-incident. She leaned around to look appraisingly behind him. "And what a _nice_ 'six' it is..."
> 
>  
> 
> "_Tey-la_!" John choked and came very close to spraying her with a mouthful of water.
> 
>  
> 
> Teyla just smiled at him, her eyes gleaming wickedly with mirth.
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
>  
> 
> He seemed drawn to the labs late that night of his own volition. Now that he did not ache nearly so much, he knew he should have been able to sleep better, but Rodney's mind never seemed to slow down. When he found himself idly considering that Rodney either needed to get laid or get drunk or both, he decided to head down to the labs. It was late, the halls were dimly lit; nobody was stirring. Still he had the vague hope that maybe Rodney would still be working. He just felt like he needed someone to talk to and damn it, he missed doing that with Rodney.
> 
>  
> 
> He was pleased when he entered the lab to see that he was right. Rodney was seated in a rolling chair with his back to the door, facing a giant white board that was covered with a theoretical equation. The lights in the lab were dim as well, the overheads off, the only lighting stemming from a desk-side lamp that spilled a bright yellow beam over Rodney's desk area and then diffused a gentler light into the room. John started to sail into the room with a suitably snarky comment but something in Rodney's posture made him stop.
> 
>  
> 
> It was the stillness, he realized. He seldom saw Rodney sitting motionless, unless he was half-dead with exhaustion, and even then, there were twitches, nods and sighs. Rodney was wearing an old flannel shirt over his black t-shirt; John did not recognize it, so it had to be one of Rodney's own. John was treated to the sight of his own hair sitting up in disarray—it looked as though Rodney had run his hands through it while wet and forgotten to try and tame it afterwards. He blinked for a moment at the thought of Rodney's hands in his hair, in his wet hair, in the shower, and then shook it off, intending on breaking the silence and entering the room.
> 
>  
> 
> Instead, Rodney abruptly stood up and marched over to the board. Snatching up a dry eraser, he began to sweep through the written equation in great furious strokes. Whipping out a blue marker from the board's ledge, he wrote rapidly across its surface, quickly filling up the space again and using the edge of his shirt sleeve to wipe the surface clean when he made a mistake and talking to himself quietly as he worked.
> 
>  
> 
> John couldn't help grinning. He always got a kick out of watching Rodney work like this and he felt a bit relieved as well; obviously Rodney had an easier time adjusting to the switch than he had. Rodney came to the end of the board and replaced the marker, picking up a cup of coffee and stepping back to review the work as he did so. John was just about to make his presence known when suddenly Rodney gave an inarticulate yell of rage and hurled the coffee cup across the room. It hit the wall and shattered, coffee splattering in a great stain like blood spatter.
> 
>  
> 
> John just knew he was standing there with his mouth open in shock, when Rodney turned and saw him.
> 
>  
> 
> "_Fuck_!" He cursed, running a hand through his hair and John knew now why it looked the way it did. The vehement curse and Rodney's distraught state made John catch his breath and he stood there, frozen in shock. What he was seeing felt totally out of character for Rodney and yet not for him and it seemed so wrong. Rodney didn't do this.
> 
>  
> 
> "Rodney?" Hs voice was quiet in the deafening silence that followed. "What's wrong?"
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney turned as bleak an expression as he had ever seen towards him and he had the sudden, unwelcome thought that this face he was seeing was reserved for the times when things had gone really badly.
> 
>  
> 
> "Please don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to be insulting here. But I can't think with your mind!" He pointed an index finger at his head and the positioning of the thumb made it look like he was miming a gun.
> 
>  
> 
> John indicated the white board vaguely with a helpless wave of one hand. "But what about...?"
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney sat down hard in the lab chair, rubbing his face with one hand before looking back up at John. His eyes held a shadow of despair. "One math problem. That's it. That's the sum total of what I've accomplished in this last week. John, you're no dummy, in fact I could have done a lot worse than get stuck with your brain. But seriously, as intelligent as you are, you're not _brilliant_. All my knowledge, that's still in here, but the ability to use it in unique ways...that's gone. Radek's been beating me to the answers all week. It's not as bad as when Cadman was in my head but..."
> 
>  
> 
> "Rodney, you'll adapt. If this turns out to be permanent, and I know it won't, but if it does, c'mon buddy, you'll make it work." He took a step closer, uncertain how to make this one better. He realized with a little shock that Rodney had called him by his first name and that somehow made things seem even worse.
> 
>  
> 
> "The way that you'll turn my body into a fighting machine?" Rodney practically drawled. Another time, John would have found it hysterical. Rodney's expression tightened up again. "John...how many times has this expedition counted on me being brilliant? What if we get into another situation where time counts and I just can't come up with the goods fast enough? Or get the answer wrong? What if...if..." His voice cracked and he broke off, shoulders slumped.
> 
>  
> 
> "I can't get your brain to shut up."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney looked up then, a faint smile on his features. John wasn't trying to be funny though. "For any given situation, I can think of too many possible outcomes. It's paralyzing me, Rodney. I spent thirty minutes this morning trying to make a simple decision regarding the next requisition order. What if it comes down to the crunch and I can't make a command decision?"
> 
>  
> 
> "We're so screwed," Rodney sighed. "I understand what its like to be you, you get what it's like to be me. Been there done that. So why haven't we switched back?"
> 
>  
> 
> "I dunno. Why don't we go back to Kiraba tomorrow and find out?"
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney looked at him a long moment and then nodded. "That's the best idea I've heard all day."
> 
>  
> 
> "I have them from time to time." John indicated his head with a crooked smile.
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
>  
> 
> "That's odd," John said when everyone had cleared the Gate. They stood as a group, getting their bearings after traveling through the wormhole, something that after all this time never failed to give John a rush. Ronon froze at his words and glanced over warily.
> 
>  
> 
> "What's odd?" The Satedan warrior seemed to be testing the air as he spoke, as though he could scent danger. Maybe he could, who knows? John looked over at Rodney, seeing _himself_ standing there, frowning slightly at the delay. Was this what twins felt like? Nah, they grew up seeing themselves in each other; they knew nothing else. It was when a twin died that everything became weird. John suddenly didn't want to go there.
> 
>  
> 
> "We radioed ahead to say we were returning. I would have at least expected a welcoming party." John looked around, as though said party might suddenly materialize at any second. Now Ronon was frowning too.
> 
>  
> 
> "Perhaps they just expected us to meet them in the village." Her voice was mild, but John could tell that Teyla wasn't happy about it either.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney merely shrugged. "Fine." He hitched his pack with all his equipment higher over his shoulder. "You guys head to town and meet up with the natives. I'll go straight to the temple."
> 
>  
> 
> "I don't think so." John was matter of fact but he braced himself mentally for the tirade to come.
> 
>  
> 
> "Rodney," Teyla said severely. "That would be considered _very_ rude."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney slid his eyes over until they made contact with John's, and he raised an eyebrow while at the same time, his mouth pulled into a barely suppressed smile. The shared amusement made John want to laugh out loud. If this was what he looked like most of the time, no wonder so many people wanted to beat him up. _Smart-ass_.
> 
>  
> 
> "Fine," Rodney huffed mildly. "Long pointless walk in totally opposite direction to the village only to turn around and head back to the temple anyway. By all means, lead the way." He waved a hand with a flourish in the direction of the village.
> 
>  
> 
> The little prickle of unease John felt initially began to fade as the team trudged the distance to the village. It was warmer here today, and John could feel the sweat start to trickle down the back of his neck. Damn it, he forgot to put on sunscreen this morning. Just how badly was Rodney's fair skin likely to burn? With any luck, if he _did_ end up getting sunburned today, he would switch back to his own body and leave Rodney to deal with it. He grinned inwardly at the thought of Rodney, pink–skinned and nose peeling, cursing up him one side and down the other for letting Rodney burn. The very fact that sunscreen worked in the first place was odd when you thought about it. It was a chemical that somehow prevented the sun's rays from doing damage, almost like shielding. He had a sudden 'eureka' thought about the properties of the ore that they had sampled the last time they were here, and he told himself to discuss it with Rodney before the end of the day. If he was right, then it might serve to boost shielding on the jumpers...he hoped that Kirabans would have something cold to drink waiting for them when they got there. Some of that fruit and cheese would be good too...John gave himself a mental slap and tried to focus his mind back on the purpose of their mission here today.
> 
>  
> 
> He was relieved when the made it to the outskirts of the village and everything seemed normal. It was going to be all right then. He didn't seem to be able to trust his instincts at the moment—either his mind focused on inconsequential things and magnified their threat capability or he worried that he would miss something important until it was too late.
> 
>  
> 
> It had to be at least ten degrees cooler inside the long stone building where they had previously met with the elders of the village. The sudden contrast from the brilliant sun outside into the darkened gloom of the structure within forced everyone to halt in the central hallway, waiting for their eyes to adjust. John frowned at the lack of reception in this area as well, and found himself making uneasy eye contact with Ronon again.
> 
>  
> 
> "Wait here," John nodded at the team. "I'm just going to give someone a head's up that we're here. Rodney looked bored, but Teyla's eyes met his too with that look of wary alertness.
> 
>  
> 
> John stepped away from the group and down the corridor, certain that he would find someone just around the corner who would be able to inform the elders they had returned. He hurried, reluctant to be parted from the team even briefly. He had just passed a small alcove when an arm reached out and snagged his own. With his free hand, he grasped his assailant by the throat and forced him back against the wall of the alcove, his breath leaving his body with a pained 'ooof' of air.
> 
>  
> 
> John discovered that he had the Seeker by the throat and released him abruptly. Ooops.
> 
>  
> 
> "Colonel," the Seeker croaked, pleading with his hands but making no move to touch John again. "Please, you must come with me. No time to explain. Hurry." He reached up, feeling the edge of the stonework with one hand, making sure John was watching as he did so. Apparently pressing some sort of release, a panel slid open in the wall with a whisper of sound. Making the universal hand signal for silence with one index finger over pursed lips, the Seeker stepped into the space and indicated John was to follow with a jerk of his head.
> 
>  
> 
> There was a long pause where John realized he simply could not read this person like he was accustomed to doing, and that he was going to have to make a decision to follow or not based on a gut instinct that was no longer reliable. _Why is it that 'what the hell?' always seems like the right answer_? He shrugged and followed the Seeker into the dark enclosure. It didn't help that the wall panel closed behind him immediately, plunging them into a Stygian blackness that was damp and suffocating. John felt a rising panic before he realized that it was Rodney who suffered from claustrophobia not him, but wasn't that interesting that there was a physical response on the part of Rodney's body and he wondered what Kate Heightmeyer would make of that. Somewhere deep inside him, a voice whispered, "Rodney's brain? Shut the fuck up."
> 
>  
> 
> There was the sound of a flint striking and the acrid flare of burning material as a small flame caught fire. John could see that the Seeker was about to light a torch when he flicked on the light of his P-90 and the Seeker jerked around, mouth puckered in an 'o' of surprise. He sheepishly doused the flame.
> 
>  
> 
> "Colonel." The Seeker elevated his hands to show they were empty. "You are in danger. After you signaled that you intended to return, strangers came through the Gate and met with two of our elders. I overheard them saying that they intended to leave through the Gate with Dr. McKay. I do not know whether or not members of the council have approved this action," in the thin, piercing light of the P-90's beam, the expression on the Seeker's face was pained, "but no one besides myself knows of the Transference."
> 
>  
> 
> "Really?" Rodney's voice sounded amazingly calm to John as he spoke with it, as though having a causal conversation at the dinner table instead of a whispered conference in the local equivalent of a priest's hole. "Why's that?"
> 
>  
> 
> The Seeker made what was almost a 'tut, tut' noise. "The experiences of the Transferred are _deeply_ personal. They are yours to share only if you desire it."
> 
>  
> 
> John was barely listening to his response, his mind leaping away from him fifteen, twenty moves ahead in the game. He saw the whole intricately intertwined series of actions he needed to take roll out before him. He knew exactly what to do. The beauty of it made him want to laugh out loud with appreciation and a part of him sternly cautioned him to focus and stay on track.
> 
>  
> 
> "Seeker," John began, with an evil genius grin, "here's the plan."
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
>  
> 
> When the barrel of the pistol contacted with his cheekbone, Rodney felt the skin split as the force of the blow sent him to his knees. He coiled up protectively as a second blow knocked him to the ground. _Shit, that hurt_!
> 
>  
> 
> "Where is Dr. McKay?" The voice spoke sharply. The question was followed with a swift kick to his ribcage when Rodney did not immediately answer. Rodney sucked in his breath sharply at the blow. For the first time, he realized just what it was like to be the leader of the team, to be the one to handle all 'negotiations'. Somehow John managed to make getting beat up look like it was only mildly uncomfortable, all the while firing pithy little barbs of wit at their captors. And he managed to get them out of these terrible situations _alive_. He wished John were here now for so many different reasons.
> 
>  
> 
> "He doesn't _know_!" Ronon growled, sounding much like a dog on a chain with its tormentor just out of reach.
> 
>  
> 
> "If you speak again, I will shoot you," the voice spoke with authority, but Rodney could hear the edge of nervousness underneath. He just didn't know if it was better to deal with someone who had the cold ruthlessness of a Kolya verses what was obviously Amateur Hour for these hostage takers. At least you could reason with Kolya. Well, not if he didn't _want_ to, but still..."Now then, Colonel. For the final time, where is Dr. McKay?"
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney opened one eye and glared up at his captor. The people of Sentu; some small dirtball of a world that they had visited last year when looking for trading partners and found a society barely scraping by. Rodney remembered identifying within the major city a source of lead poisoning in the solder used to join the piping in the main water supply. Such a small thing with such a huge impact on the population. The leaders had been pathetically grateful at the time. And now they wanted Rodney as a permanent 'guest'?
> 
>  
> 
> How had things gone so badly so rapidly? He shot a glance at Ronon and sent a 'down boy' command with his eyes. Ronon didn't like it, but he remained still. With a shock, he realized Teyla was just as livid and something in her still, quiet posture did not bode well for the man who had just kicked him. He prayed she would not do something stupid, even as his mind argued that Teyla _never_ did anything stupid.
> 
>  
> 
> A Kiraban man had met them in the hallway earlier and asked them to follow him to the council chambers where the elders were waiting to speak with them. Figuring John would catch up, Rodney led the way as the team followed their guide. When they entered the room, they had been quickly surrounded at gunpoint by people wearing uniforms that struck Rodney as being vaguely Union Armyesque and they were marched into this holding area. Ronon and Teyla had been moments away from fighting back for all they were worth, but a weapon leveled at Rodney's head had frozen them in their tracks and they had relinquished their weapons reluctantly. Rodney felt horribly guilty for not being able to fight back, for allowing them to all be caught. A part of him whispered that John would have been forced to surrender too, that it had happened to them before under his command as well, but it didn't feel that way. He felt responsible for the team in John's absence and that he had let the team down. That he had let John down. That was part of being a leader too, he guessed.
> 
>  
> 
> By his count, there were just five strangers involved in their capture. Of course, he had no way of knowing how many council members were also in on it—someone had to have tipped these bozos off to their planned return to the planet. Four against five, providing John was somewhere nearby and aware of their predicament. Thankfully, their Sentu captors had chosen to continue to use their more familiar, primitive weapons. Rodney had no doubt that the black powder and ball affairs the Sentu were using were just as deadly as Sheppard's P-90 or Ronon's Big Gun. But he doubted their aim was quite as accurate, nor could they get off so many shots in rapid succession. They should be able to get out of this somehow. What would John do?
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney realized he had delayed too long in answering when he saw the leader of their captors suddenly turn and leveled the barrel of his weapon at Teyla's abdomen.
> 
>  
> 
> "Wait, wait, wait!" He gasped, struggling to sit up. All heads turned to face him.
> 
>  
> 
> "Well?" The leader, a bearded man in a dark blue jacket over buff colored breeches, was impatient.
> 
>  
> 
> "Okay. This is going to sound completely off the wall...strange, unbelievable," Rodney amended when it was obvious from the leader's frown that he didn't understand the phrase. "But the last time we came to the planet? Well, there was this Ancient artifact and it caused the Colonel and I to switch bodies. So even though I may _look_ like Colonel Sheppard, I'm really Rodney McKay."
> 
>  
> 
> Teyla sucked in her breath to speak but was waved to silence by the gun once more.
> 
>  
> 
> "It's true, it's true," Rodney was desperate to make the frowning, gun toting, Teyla–threatening man believe him. He got slowly to his feet, smacking his chest for emphasis as he spoke. "I'm _really_ Rodney McKay."
> 
>  
> 
> The leader's mouth tightened in a snarl of rage and he turned back to face Teyla, lifting his weapon again.
> 
>  
> 
> "No! Really, I can prove it! Ask me a question! You want a nuclear bomb? I can build one! I can reconfigure shields for a city using lightening generated power by conducting the energy through its corridors. I can build you a Naquada generator from scratch. I can purge your battlecruiser's systems of Wraith engineered viruses. Hell, I've destroyed five-sixths of a solar system! I can...I can..." Rodney frantically searched his mind for any skill that could be deemed worthwhile. "I can program a VCR!"
> 
>  
> 
> "Enough!" The leader roared. He turned and shoved his face in Rodney's, who struggled hard to remain very, very still. "Do you really imagine I would believe such a ludicrous story? I grow weary of your stupid games. For the last time, produce Dr. McKay or I will shoot both of your people."
> 
>  
> 
> "I need my radio." Rodney's voice was tired. "I need to call him and persuade him to join us."
> 
>  
> 
> "No tricks." The leader looked pleased at Rodney's final quiescence. Rodney decided that if he had been as ruthless as he appeared, he would have shot either Ronon or Teyla outright at the first sign of resistance; after all, he would still have the other to use as leverage. Just how he was so sure of this fact, he didn't know, but he thought he might still be able to use it to his advantage. Nevertheless, he had to be careful here.
> 
>  
> 
> "No tricks," he agreed. A nod from the leader sent one of the other intruders down the hall for the equipment that had been taken from the team; Rodney now knew by the length of time that it took the lackey to return that their packs weren't all that far away. He accepted the radio link as it was handed to him and slipped it over one ear.
> 
>  
> 
> "McKay," he barked into the radio, praying that John would buy a vowel and understand what was going on. "Where the hell are you? You were only supposed to be gone a few minutes."
> 
>  
> 
> "The Kirabans all seem to be in a meeting," Rodney heard the sound of his own voice speaking cheerfully in his ear.
> 
>  
> 
> "Never mind that, we've been met by the welcoming committee. Get your fat ass back here." Rodney made his tone deliberately harsh.
> 
>  
> 
> "My ass is not fat. As a matter of fact, I have a very nice ass, you can ask Teyla." John still sounded like he was smirking and Rodney wanted to scream in frustration, even as he was momentarily diverted. _Teyla_? No wait, this was John's way of asking for more information...
> 
>  
> 
> "Teyla unfortunately can not render an opinion as to that at the moment. Listen, remember that bad storm we had last year?" Rodney held up 'the hand' when the Sentu leader made as if to stop him. "Well, the Kirabans say there's a storm front brewing right now. If you want to complete the mission before it's too late, you need to get back here right now. Do you copy?"
> 
>  
> 
> "Loud and clear, Colonel." To Rodney's ear, John laid slightly more stress on the word 'colonel'. So this means he got it, right? "I was just waiting for you to ask nicely."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney had a sudden bad feeling about this. There was movement in the hallway, the sound of weapons at the ready, a scuffle of noise and then an 'oof' muttered softly in his earpiece, before the two guards outside frog-marched John through the door to the holding area.
> 
>  
> 
> "Hey!" John complained, pulling his arm out of the grip of one of the guards and walking into the room under his own steam. "Watch it. I bruise easily."
> 
>  
> 
> One of the guards sneered and reached forward to remove his earpiece, Rodney's handgun already in his grip.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney felt his mouth gape open and before the Sentu leader could speak, he took an angry step forward. "You dumb fuck!" He shouted, fists clenched at his side. "It's a trap! You're a bloody genius and you couldn't tell it was a trap?"
> 
>  
> 
> John gave him an unreadable look for a nanosecond and then his features coalesced into a recognizable Rodney scowl. "I'm a _scientist_, not a soldier, Colonel. It's your job to figure out those things."
> 
>  
> 
> "We have what we want," the Sentu commander said to the rest of his men. "Take Dr. McKay back to the Portal. Kill the others."
> 
>  
> 
> "Sure you don't want to check with your boss first?" John's infinitely superior sneer had the effect of silencing Rodney as he opened his mouth to protest, freezing Ronon and Teyla before they launched into an attack and causing the Sentu commander to hold up a hand to abort the action.
> 
>  
> 
> "Explain," the commander said cautiously.
> 
>  
> 
> "Well, you are obviously working under someone else's orders. And you haven't taken into consideration that I might not be the only valuable hostage here. This one," John indicated Ronon, who eyed him coolly, "is on _everyone's_ hit list. There's a price on his head on half a dozen worlds at least. The woman is the leader of her people. They will pay a pretty penny, sorry, figure of speech," John amended at the Sentu man's frown, "they will trade highly for her safe return. As for the Colonel..." John's eye flicked Rodney up and down, "well, Acastus Kolya is said to want him...badly. I wouldn't piss off Kolya if I were you." He smiled, shark-like.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney was about to protest being turned over to Kolya (_Kolya? Are you insane_?) when he caught John's eye and realized that being alive in the first place to be turned over to Kolya was probably a good thing. At least until Kolya got his hands on him.
> 
>  
> 
> The Sentu commander traded looks with his men and withdrew to one side to give them their new orders. A muttered "more trouble than they're worth" was clearly audible at one point, but the commander's opinion carried the day. Rodney tried not to heave a big sigh of relief when it became apparent that they were not about to be marched outside and shot after all.
> 
>  
> 
> "Escort our _guests_ to the portal," the commander spoke to his men before turning to the team. "If any of you displays any resistance, we will kill all of you except Dr. McKay."
> 
>  
> 
> "Fine," John sniped, "but if you expect me to fix anything on your planet, then I'll need my pack. It's got all my tools in it."
> 
>  
> 
> The Sentu commander indicated with a flick of his eyes for one of his men to go and collect the pack.
> 
>  
> 
> "Be sure you bring back the right one!" John yelled after him. "The one with the instruments...oh hell, I should just go with him." He made as if to follow, but was stopped by the barrel of a gun across his path.
> 
>  
> 
> "Gellig," the commander spoke again to one of the other men, "go and bring back all the packs and weapons. We can use them."
> 
>  
> 
> The soldier gave a stiff nod and left the area at a jog. Rodney scanned the room. Three Sentu holding them now, including the commander. The odds were improving.
> 
>  
> 
> Without waiting for the rest of his men to return, the commander directed them all to leave the holding area and begin the long walk down the narrow corridor. They had turned into the next hallway and gone about twenty-five feet when there came the sound of automatic weapons fire above them. Ronon and Teyla immediately slammed into their guards, crumpling them against the walls.
> 
>  
> 
> "_You_!" The Sentu commander turned on John with a hiss. "You set us up!" He raised his weapon and took aim.
> 
>  
> 
> "No!" Rodney shouted, lunging forward as the gun went off. He felt something slam into his shoulder, as though he had run into a wall, icy in its initial brush and then blossoming into a burning pain. His forward momentum carried him into the Sentu commander and then they were both down on the ground, scrabbling for the weapon, Rodney's movements growing less coordinated as a grey film threatened to overtake his vision.
> 
>  
> 
> Suddenly John was in the mix too, snagging the gun and whipping up from a prone position on the ground to aim it at the Sentu leader. Before John could speak, Ronon plucked the hapless Sentu man up off the floor and dashed him against the wall, where he slid down in a boneless heap.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney could feel John's hand on his shoulder, even as he was giving orders. "Ronon, Teyla. Secure the corridor behind us. The others will have heard the shot."
> 
>  
> 
> Ronon stepped across them where they sprawled on the floor. Teyla followed closely behind, sprinting to catch up with Ronon as they made it to the turn in the corridor and held their position.
> 
>  
> 
> "Rodney." John sounded worried. Rodney felt him tearing at the fabric of his t-shirt, exploring the wound and then pressing a folded cloth against it. "Stay with me, buddy. Are you okay?"
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh god," Rodney groaned. "I can't _believe_ I did that. Did you see me do that? What, are stupidly self-sacrificing heroics somehow part of your genetic code? What was I thinking?"
> 
>  
> 
> "That maybe you didn't want someone putting holes in your body, even if you weren't in it at the time?" The relief in John's voice was evident. His voice sounded somewhat shaky and Rodney thought crazily about suggesting that he eat something before he passed out.
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh right," Rodney huffed. "And it is so much better to let someone put holes in _your_ body while I'm wearing it."
> 
>  
> 
> "It's just a flesh wound, Rodney." John helped him into a seated position, sliding behind him as he did so, laughter evident in voice.
> 
>  
> 
> "I bet you've been waiting _years_ to say that," Rodney said nastily. "Oh god." His voice faltered as John began to hoist him to his feet. "I got you shot. I bet this is some sick, divine, cosmic, karmic retribution because I just couldn't keep my hands off of you."
> 
>  
> 
> He felt John freeze up behind him. "Oh god. I said that out loud, didn't I?"
> 
>  
> 
> They stood unmoving, Rodney leaning back into John's support; John's arms around his chest as he held him up. Suddenly, Rodney heard John's voice, low and husky in his ear. "Much as I would love to discuss that in detail, we need to get moving."
> 
>  
> 
> John shifted him so that he was leaning against John's left side, leaving his right hand free to hold the Sentu weapon at the ready. Behind them, Ronon and Teyla were trading small arms fire with the remaining Sentu, Teyla shouting at them to surrender. The radio that Rodney forgot he was still wearing suddenly squawked to life in his ear.
> 
>  
> 
> "That'll be Lorne's team. Tell them to move in but be careful and also that we have injuries." John sounded supremely smug and Rodney shot him an evil look.
> 
>  
> 
> "What? You didn't really think I would just walk into a trap did you? I sent the Seeker on ahead to the Gate with my IDC for reinforcements. I knew I just had to stall for time after that."
> 
>  
> 
> "Brilliant thinking," Rodney said sourly.
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
>  
> 
> Coming back to the infirmary should not have felt like coming home, but it did anyway. John was just so relieved that he had gotten the team back in one piece, even if there were some injuries. He was pathetically glad to see Carson come forward, frowning as he directed Rodney's gurney into one area of the infirmary and then running a practiced eye over the rest of the team briefly before other medical staff moved in to start their examinations. The stress of the day made him want to find the nearest trash receptacle and puke in it. The momentary flash of brilliance in formulating an escape plan aside, he did not think he was capable of taking the team out on another mission in his current form. He knew he was being ridiculous—he was the same person inside, after all. He just did not feel like he could protect them.
> 
>  
> 
> Carson looked them over himself after he had finished up with Rodney. He came to each one of them individually, examined them a second time, read their records and cleared them to leave. Ronon and Teyla had popped in to say they had been sprung well before Carson got to John so he tried to sit patiently on the infirmary bed and wait his turn. Maybe he would go by the lab after he got out...Rodney's notes on the ore should be on his laptop. Maybe he could sneak the laptop back into the infirmary so he could show Rodney that thing about the shields...he wondered what was taking Carson so long. Surely Rodney was okay, right?
> 
>  
> 
> Just when John was about to get up and go check on Rodney's condition himself, Carson came into the room.
> 
>  
> 
> "How is he, doc?" John barely waited for Carson to cross to his bedside. Carson picked up his chart from the end of the bed and began looking it over, smiling without making eye contact.
> 
>  
> 
> "Doc..." John drew the syllables out, making the short word into two separate sounds.
> 
>  
> 
> Carson snorted and re-hung the chart. "He's fine. A minor graze, just as you had said. Though he feels horribly guilty about it. I'm going to have to put in a few stitches on that facial cut. I'm just waiting for the topical anesthetic to kick in, as well as the pain meds."
> 
>  
> 
> "Soooo, you're letting him out today, right?"
> 
>  
> 
> Carson folded his arms over his chest and gave John a very smug look. "Since someone is currently occupying your body that will actually _listen_ to what I have to say about what is best for your health and wellbeing, no, Rodney is staying overnight."
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh." John caught himself fidgeting with the cover of the bed and willed his hands to stop moving. "Any thoughts on why we haven't switched back yet? I mean, if anything should have done it, you'd think getting shot would be on the top of the list."
> 
>  
> 
> "Certainly if you were going by Rodney's personality, you would think so," Carson agreed, the humor on his face softening into concern. "I can't help you there, Colonel. Though if it is any consolation, to hear Rodney rant, it would certainly seem that he has a whole new appreciation for how tough your job is."
> 
>  
> 
> "With any luck, we won't switch until at least after he's healed now," John grinned. He paused, suddenly hesitant. "Um, can I go see him?"
> 
>  
> 
> "He'd like that I'm sure." Carson's smile lit up his face and John had a sudden thought—next Christmas, they'd make Carson play Santa to the Athosian children. Santa with a Scottish accent. It would be cool. "Don't stay long though, he'll be getting sleepy. I gave him something for the pain."
> 
>  
> 
> John rolled his eyes and jumped down off the bed, only to stop at Carson's yelp of laughter. "What?"
> 
>  
> 
> "I'm sorry," Carson snickered helplessly, waving him off towards the door. "It's just the eye roll, it was classic Rodney..."
> 
>  
> 
> John stuck out his tongue at him, which made Carson collapse into giggles, flapping a hand and wheezing, "Stop it, stop it, that's just wrong." John just shook his head as he went off to find Rodney.
> 
>  
> 
> He stood at the entrance to Rodney's room and watched for a moment, getting past that initial moment of startle at seeing 'himself' lying in the infirmary bed. He thought Rodney was asleep at first, but then he saw the glitter of half-closed eyes tracking his movement and he came over to stand bedside the bed, looking down. Rodney had been changed into scrubs, a modest effort made to clean him up a little. On his right arm, he sported a fresh, clean bandage that stood out starkly against the pale blue of the scrub top.
> 
>  
> 
> "Hey." Rodney's voice had a drug-induced drawl and it made both of them smile. "Hey," Rodney said again. "I finally sound like you. All it took was really good drugs."
> 
>  
> 
> "Funny." John cocked his head at Rodney, who had rolled his head back a little to look up. "Soooo, I take it you're staying here tonight."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney yawned. "Yup. Carson thought it would be a good idea."
> 
>  
> 
> "Pity." John drawled a little himself. "I had one or two things I wanted to go over with you tonight."
> 
>  
> 
> There was a long pause, and then John watched his hazel eyes flare open and then half shut again, but this time there was the impression of a banked fire behind them. "Oh really." Rodney raised one eyebrow slightly.
> 
>  
> 
> "Yup." John mimicked his earlier words. "I had an idea or two about the ore we picked up...but we can talk about it once you are released."
> 
>  
> 
> John could see a flicker of scientific interest at war with the disappointment of hoping that the 'one or two things to go over' was a euphemism for something else. He glanced around—they appeared to be completely alone. He leaned in, adjusting Rodney's pillow. "What I have to say will keep. I guess I'd better go get cleaned up. Take a shower or something. While I'm waiting for you." He murmured the last sentence suggestively near Rodney's neck as he pulled away and stood up again. He held Rodney's eye for a long moment before allowing Rodney's expressive mouth to slide into a slow smile.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney gaped at him. "I...you...you don't mean...oh that's just..." he spluttered, eyes opening fully again. He started to lift his head from the pillow, only to let it fall back again with a thump.
> 
>  
> 
> John leveled what he hoped was a filthy grin in Rodney's direction and was rewarded with the small shift in movement underneath the light covering that told him Rodney fully understood what he was meant. "You. Are. An. Evil. Man." Rodney huffed slowly.
> 
>  
> 
> "Me?" John said in all innocence.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney narrowed his eyes. "Yes. You. You come in here and imply...things...and then leave me here in this very public room with a very active imagination, I might add, to think about said things and I can't do anything about it. I might've known you'd be a big believer in delayed gratification," Rodney finished sourly.
> 
>  
> 
> John was heading for the door with a laugh. "Who said anything about delaying?" He spoke over his shoulder, one eyebrow arched. "See ya, Rodney."
> 
>  
> 
> The look of astonishment and lust on his own features should have been freaky but it wasn't. Nope, not by a long shot.
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
>  
> 
> He was lying on Rodney's bed, reading _War and Peace_ when the door to the room slid open and Rodney marched in. He looked tired, still wearing the blue scrubs, the t-shirt having been a total loss, John presumed. He had shoved sockless feet into John's boots, shoelaces untied and was carrying a one of the plastic infirmary bags that probably had the rest of John's clothes within. In addition to the bandage on his arm, he was wearing a small patch covering the back of his hand where the IV catheter had been placed and had four tiny stitches across his cheekbone. The surrounding skin was starting to bruise as well; he'd have a black eye by this time tomorrow. He looked disheveled and in desperate need of a shower and a shave. _Not a good look for me_, John thought critically. He couldn't understand why any of his former lovers thought it was sexy. Someone had once told him it was the epitome of masculinity, which still did not make much sense to him.
> 
>  
> 
> "Rodney." He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were going to be a good little cooperative patient and stay overnight in the infirmary." He checked his watch; it was very late.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney raised an eyebrow back. "I stayed all afternoon. I slept. I had a nice bland dinner. I got bored out of my mind and finally Carson said I could go." He went over to the closet, moving with the care of someone who is sore and began rummaging through the clothes within. "I'm just looking for a few shirts I can button up the front...I don't want anything too tight over this bandage either. I'll be out of here in a second." The look he gave John seemed edgy and uncomfortable before his eyes slid away towards the closet.
> 
>  
> 
> He pulled a few long sleeved flannel shirts and a couple of Oxford button downs off the hangers with one hand, tossing them over his other arm. He turned to face John and said querulously, "How am I supposed to shower with this bandage on? Carson says I'm not to get it wet."
> 
>  
> 
> John laid the book down and swung his feet off the bed to rise. "Well," he said, walking towards Rodney, "you have a couple of choices. You can either take the bandage off and replace it after the shower or you can protect it with Saran Wrap in the shower."
> 
>  
> 
> A light appeared to dawn on Rodney's face. "So that's what the Saran Wrap is for! I wondered...and all the bandaging material you have lying around..." Rodney suddenly blushed and John watched in fascination as the tips of his ears turned red. Okay, so maybe his ears were a little oddly shaped, but they were _not_ pointed. No matter what anyone said.
> 
>  
> 
> "Rodney. What did you think that stuff was for?" John moved in on him slowly, loving the look of embarrassment on his face, and seeing the familiar hunch of his shoulders as he tried to make himself smaller. Rodney took a step backwards at his approach, and then another, until he was standing half in, half out of the closet, arms folded protectively in front of him as John placed either hand on the closet door. There was a rustle of clothing as Rodney leaned back into the hangers.
> 
>  
> 
> "Don't you...don't you...I mean, well," Rodney started to stammer as John leaned in closer. John hesitated, hands braced on either side of the door, holding Rodney in place as he held the lean forward. Rodney flicked a glance up and down him quickly before meeting his eye. "Don't you find this the slightest bit freaky? I mean, looking back at yourself instead of at me? I mean, it would be different if there had been an 'us' first, but there really isn't so this is just a little weird, you know?"
> 
>  
> 
> "Rodney." John spoke slowly. He straightened, releasing the door. "There's always been an 'us'. We just didn't..." He trailed off helplessly, his hand making a 'you know' gesture. "Besides," he continued a little more strongly. "No matter what, no one else has ever experienced anything like this before... and that's just..." he struggled for the right words. Hot? Kinky? Unique? "Really cool."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney gave him the 100 megawatt Rodney grin and he suddenly knew everything was going to be all right between them now.
> 
>  
> 
> "I see your point...I can actually think of a few advantages in this situation." Rodney was once-again confident and he pushed John backwards with his free hand as he moved the two of them inexorably towards the bed, dropping the armload of clothing to the floor as he cleared the closet door.
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh yeah?" It didn't seem like a very bright thing to say but he couldn't seem to think of anything smarter at the moment. The end of the bed hit the backs of his legs and he found himself being pushed down on it.
> 
>  
> 
> "Yeah." Rodney crawled slowly onto the bed after him, settling with his thighs straddling John. He bent over to murmur at John's jaw line, whispering the words as he spoke, his breath just brushing the skin. John could feel the prickle of his own five o'clock shadow ghosting the skin of his (_Rodney's_) face and he shivered slightly. "Because I already know what you will like." He sat back up slowly, plucking at the hem of his scrub top with one hand before pausing to frown. "Ow. I think I'm going to need help getting this off."
> 
>  
> 
> John leaned up and ran his hand under the bottom of the scrub top, pushing the material slowly up, allowing his fingers to brush skin as he did so. Rodney gave a wicked grin that disappeared into a sleepy-eyed appreciation of the contact, arching head and neck back slightly with a murmur of pleasure. John pushed himself up into a sitting position, Rodney in his lap as he eased the scrub top over his head and let Rodney peel it off the injured arm. No sooner than Rodney discarded the shirt, then he grabbed the bottom of John's shirt and began to pull it off with sudden urgency. Once that shirt too hit the floor, Rodney cupped his face with both hands and kissed him, hard and demanding. His hand reached up to cup the back of John's head and he could not avoid the little hiss of discomfort as Rodney's fingers ran over the back of his neck. Rodney pulled back sharply.
> 
>  
> 
> "John. Why do you smell of Solarcaine?" His voice was accusing and without warning, he pulled John's head forward into his shoulder and craned to look over his neck. He made an inarticulate noise of outrage. "You're sunburned! You went out and let me get burned! Hello, haven't you noticed I'm like the poster child for the malignant melanoma society here?"
> 
>  
> 
> John couldn't help it; he started to laugh. Rodney leaned back to see his face, obviously angry. "What's so funny?"
> 
>  
> 
> "Let's keep things in perspective here, McKay." John snickered. "You got sunburned today. I got beat up and shot."
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh. Oh god. Oh, you are so right. I'm so sorry, what was I thinking? Well, I obviously _wasn't_ thinking or else I wouldn't have..." John shut him up by leaning in for another kiss, this one sloppy and uncontrolled. He leaned back, pulling Rodney down on top of him, closing his eyes and going with it, no longer trying to categorize what he was feeling or what Rodney was feeling. Hands smoothed over shoulders and dived down backs, worked their way up into hairlines, slipped down into the waistband of pants. Mouths pulled at lips, nibbled at tendons, licked at beads of sweat forming along heated skin and pushed in a sweet slide against each other until he no longer knew where Rodney began and he ended. He could taste himself and smell Rodney, feel his own muscles thrusting against him and the response it triggered from Rodney's body. He was lost and he never wanted to be found.
> 
>  
> 
> There was no way he could make it last; it had been too long for both of them and he was too close. There would be time for more later. All that mattered now was that he get as close to Rodney as possible. He hooked one of Rodney's legs around his own thigh and pulled Rodney into him, digging _Rodney's_ fingers into _his_ flesh and rocking against him. Rodney broke off their kiss to lay his head close to John's face and clutch at his shoulders with both hands.
> 
>  
> 
> "John. I...I'm..." Rodney made John's voice sound incredibly husky and that was all it took. John started to come and wasn't that an interesting experience because, wow, _that_ was different. John curled up with the force of his orgasm and clung to Rodney before slamming back to the pillow beneath him. Rodney had his hands on John's face and John felt a laugh bubbling up from somewhere deep within him as he rode it out. And then Rodney's grip shifted back to his shoulders and he began murmuring a litany of "oh, oh, my..." as he continued to push against John's blissfully relaxed body, eyes tightly closed as he started to come himself. He dropped his head to John's shoulder and gave a shaky laugh before lifting his face and leaning once more into John for a kiss.
> 
>  
> 
> Like it did when he touched the idol, John felt suddenly attached to Rodney as though through an electrical current and there was a brilliant jolt of sensation that felt very much like another orgasm before everything grayed out.
> 
>  
> 
> When he came to, he had his head pillowed on Rodney's shoulder and part of him did not want to examine too closely how right that felt. He felt Rodney stir sleepily beneath him and he smiled, eyes still closed as he moved to give Rodney more room on the narrow bed. The movement caused his arm to burn with sudden pain and he hissed at the unexpectedness of it. His eyes snapped open to see Rodney's face inches away, his blue eyes staring intently back at him in concern and disorientation. Rodney got it at almost the same time as he did. His mobile mouth split into a wide smile. "Oh thank god. It's about time. Hah, we should have tried this from the beginning..."
> 
>  
> 
> John rolled off, allowing himself to fall back to the bed, lying on his back beside Rodney. "I agree, though perhaps not for the same reasons." He tried to keep the wince out of his voice as his arm throbbed with the movement and his entire body felt like he'd been beaten with a baseball bat. The scrub bottoms were sticking to him uncomfortably as well and hah! He wasn't wearing any underwear..._Rodney, for shame_...
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney half rolled to face him, propping his head up on one hand. John realized that Rodney was still wearing his dog tags, and wasn't _that_ just the hottest thing he'd ever seen?
> 
>  
> 
> "I doubt seriously sex with you, fantastic as it is, would have triggered a switch before we had really spent a little time learning what it was like to be the other." Rodney seemed to be giving the subject some serious thought.
> 
>  
> 
> "That wasn't what I meant when I agreed with you." John watched as Rodney processed what he'd said and something inside of him responded with a '_yes_' at Rodney's shy smile and ducking of his head when he got it. It was almost more than he could bear, so he brought his uninjured arm up and shielded his eyes.
> 
>  
> 
> "Damn, Rodney," he complained from under his arm. "I'm going to have to sue you for damages."
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh don't be such a big baby."
> 
>  
> 
> John dropped his arm to glare at Rodney, who looked unrepentant. He felt the corner of his mouth twitch in a smile as Rodney continued to grin down at him. Rodney reached out with one hand and placed it lightly on his neck, following the planes of muscle down and out along his collarbone with a light touch.
> 
>  
> 
> "I'll make it up to you." Rodney's hand withdrew and John held his breath as he watched Rodney suck on his fingers to wet them before tracing the edges of one nipple. "I've learned a few things about you this past week." John felt his mouth drop open and he had to drag air in.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney started to pull his fingers back to wet them again, but John caught him by the wrist and pulled his hand slowly to his mouth. "Me too," he smiled, as he caught Rodney's fingers between his lips. He had a feeling round two was going to be even better.
> 
>  
> 
> ~fin~


End file.
